


Summer Nights

by Ireg



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), F/F, F/M, Fangan Ronpa: Super Danganronpa Another 2 - The Moon of Hope and Sun of Despair, Gen, M/M, Ultimate Talent Development Plan (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 72,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ireg/pseuds/Ireg
Summary: In the interest of promoting talented youth and studying talent in a controlled environment, the Future Foundation branch of the United Nations established the Ultimate Initiative to recognize prestigious students in a variety of areas. The first batch of Ultimate Students come together to form the very first Ultimate Talent Development plan- A summer of interaction and studying between all the ultimates in a remote location with contact only with other ultimates.In these life-changing summer nights, the newly-minted ultimate students will laugh, learn, and love- While investigating a strange competition even the student leads of the project were previously unaware of.-------------An experimental omega-crossover in the same vein as Voyage of Passion and Purpose, featuring all three main games along with aged-up versions of the warriors of hope, a few select Modified characters from DR3 As well as the cast of incredible Korean Fangame Super Danganronpa Another 2, although knowledge of it is in no way required for reading.Expect friendships between characters from different games, as well as alternate interpretations of characters that had little development, and extensive thoughts in the notes!
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede/Saihara Shuichi, Fukawa Touko/Naegi Komaru, Genocider Syo | Genocide Jack/Naegi Komaru, Hinata Hajime/Nanami Chiaki, Kirigiri Kyoko/Maizono Sayaka, Komaeda Nagito/Therapy
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	1. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaede Akamatsu prepares for a wild summer with unusual characters abound- While recounting how exactly she got here in the first place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but this was more of a pilot for writing this so it cant be helped. The next two chapters are much longer.
> 
> A few things to note! Everyone in this fic is around the same age (College Age), even any Warriors of Hope who are mentioned. I didn't do this to be able to ship anyone or have adult themes, since I don't plan to have anything sexually related anyways, really- Just because it's more natural for me to write characters who have this much experience in their craft at an older age since freshmen in highschool never really made sense, especially for someone like Kyoko or Maki.
> 
> Yes, this fic contains SDRA2 characters. Watching Super Dangan Ronpa Another 2 isn't required to read this at all, but if you want to I highly recommend it! It's watchable up to trial 4 translated on youtube, and contains great DR content to hold you over till the next main game, including the best trial 3 i've seen even out of the main games. If you need a reference, full sprite sheets for the character are online if you need them to visualize any characters I mention.

Kaede Akamatsu was practically vibrating from excitement as the car pulled up to the isolated parking lot. Hope and energy swirled within her like a saccharine note, clouding her thoughts slightly….

Of course, it was soured slightly by doubts and fear- But she wouldn’t let that keep her down and ruin this amazing start of her new song!

It could be said that the prodigy of piano, Kaede Akamatsu was more upbeat than most (At least, from anyone who only knew her on the surface level) But even for her, this level of pure voracious anticipation was atypical. So, what exactly was it?

The event of a lifetime. An education, social gathering, and opportunity to benefit humanity all in one. None other than the “Ultimate Talent Development Plan” designed by the future foundation, a worldwide organization established as a charter of the United Nations to promote technology, education and aspire developing talent across the globe.

The “Ultimate Talent Development Plan” Was planned to be a semi-annual event that would begin for the first time this year. First, in an event known as the “Ultimate Hunt”, leading talents were scouted for major and often minor fields- While some were chosen in competitions where applicable, sometimes it was just a random letter in the mail- Which was the case for Kaede.

* * *

Kaede’s fingers trailed off the skeletal bones of the piano, as the last lingering breaths of “Moonlight Sonata” By Mozart sung to the crowd. Like always, she could almost feel a piece of herself glide along with those last tender notes, and an unnatural calmness settled over her like a still lake.

Then, in almost no time at all, she was broken out of her meditative state and suddenly startled by the avalanche of applause that fell onto her. Taking in a quick breath and reassuring herself, she stood and bowed. Even when they were literally congratulating her, a crowd that packed this massive Victorian-style theatre still gave her the heebie jeebies.

But at all of the smiling faces, her heart mellowed to a marshmallow softness and happiness trickled from it like a clear mountain spring.

And in the crowd- There was a certain specific face that was especially ecstatic, and perhaps a little too much so…. People weren’t typically supposed to scream and shout at classical ventures like this one, and people were being put off by it (Not that the person in question seemed to care) 

Kaede gave a bit of an awkward smile at that, before moving offstage after her moment in the spotlight was over.

Soon enough, that energetic person (Perhaps overly so, at times) Came bounding backstage like a raucous rhino. Which, all things considered was a fairly apt comparison, considering her bizarre hair horns.

The one, the only….

“IBUKI MIODA!” Kaede was very glad that this room was soundproofed, otherwise she might have drowned out the soft sounds of Violin out in the concert hall.

“You might get kicked out if you keep acting like you did at the end of that performance, Ibuki.” Kaede said- Although she knew all too well her words wouldn’t do much to calm a person best described as the most hyper animal you could imagine combined with the most sugary substance and loudest noise.

“Aw… Shucks.” The world-class rock star rubbed her multicolored hair, looking a bit like a cat who was caught knocking over a potted plant. “But this stuffy atmosphere with all its cool rich cats can’t keep Ibuki’s adoration for Kayaday’s silky smooth vibes down!”

“Well, I certainly appreciate it- It’s nice to have a familiar face this far away from home.” Kaede took a moment to look the wild lass over- She looked a bit stuffy in a tuxedo, but she was quite frankly both dapper and gorgeous, even if she was wearing it slightly incorrectly. 

Sighing, Kaede leaned forward and began trying to fix her tie. “All things considered, I never thought you’d be this much of a fan of classical.”

“Classical? Well, honestly it’s not Ibuki’s style, but that all changes when it’s performed by such a lassycvious as yourself!” 

Kaede blinked. “Wait, doesn’t that mean…”

“Although honestly, Ibuki is beginning to feel like she isn’t welcome here….”

“Gah, just ignore them, the old geezers.” Kaede gave a reassuring smile. “They don’t understand music isn’t static- It melds, changes and flows like a river, incorporating all aspects of humanity.”

“When Kayaday gets all deep, Ibuki doesn’t really understand you… But I get the gist of it!”

From an outside perspective, Kaede and Ibuki don’t really seem like the kind of people who would know one another, but Kaede honestly felt like it was only a matter of time until they were. Even if she personally wasn’t exactly enthralled by her fellow performer’s music the way she was by more… Relaxed pieces, she could still appreciate somebody who applied themselves to their craft and put their soul and energy into what they did- Which Ibuki definitely did.

They had met a while back when one of Kaede’s other friends dragged her to one of Ibuki’s concerts, and surprisingly enough Ibuki recognized her and they ended up hanging out for a while after it. Since then, their paths had crossed quite often, and they tried to attend one another’s performances as best they could.

And, speaking of the friend who had pulled her to Ibuki’s performance in the first place….

“Kaeds! Ibooks!” Kotoko Utsugi came up behind the duo and wrapped her arms around them both, slightly startling Kaede. “That was a stellar performance- And you are, as always, adorbs! You were shining up on that stage like shining gold, or a shining star, or shiny bit of tin foil!”

Kaede chuckled. “I… Don’t know if that last one fits, Kotoko, but I appreciate it.” The drama star herself was around the same age as the other two girls, although a little younger. She was world class for her stunning performances onstage, and she had stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd earlier- Her obsession with cotton candy colors contrasted easily with the muted formalwear everyone else wore.

“Ah, good sneevning, Kotoko!” Said Ibuki. “You creeped up on us just like a cat. A pink, high class cool cat…”

“What’s with you and cats today?” Asked Kaede, admiring her handiwork with the fixed tie (Although admittedly, it didn’t suit the rocker very well)

“Ibuki doesn’t know… It’s just something about the furilicious nommers that get me today…”

“Excuse me, ladies…” A male voice called out from the entryway to the backstage room.

He was unusual, to say the least. An outfit punctuated by the color tan that evoked memories of classical journalists and newsboys with his tan trench coat and hat, and a longer hairstyle that left his left eye obscured.

“Uh, excuse me mister dirt but last I checked you didn’t have backstage access- How exactly did you get back here? We explicitly stated we didn’t want press crawling around...” Accused Kotoko.

“Yeah… Ibuki wants to know too!”

“Guys… Lets just… Give him a chance.” Pleaded Kaede. “What… Exactly do you want from us? I’m afraid I don’t really want to be interviewed right now…”

He coughed nervously, glancing between each of the girls. “Mister… Dirt?”

“Your coat. It’s the color of dirt. Or rust, and wood…” Kotoko clarified.

He anxiously retrieved a notepad from inside his coat and began scrawling things down. “...Well, as much as I’d love to conduct interviews with you beautiful ladies, that’s not why I’m here… I’ve unfortunately been delegated to more or less of a delivery boy… But it’s fine as long as I get to meet pretty ladies like you guys!” He said with a smile, only for it to fade as he got one unamused look and two awkward smiles.

Clearing his throat, he retrieved three envelopes from his coat. “These are for you. I’m… Nikei Yomiuri, by the way.”

“Kaede Akamatsu- Ultimate Pianist”

“Ibuki Mioda- Ultimate Musician”

“Kotoko Utsugi- Ultimate Drama Star”

* * *

In that moment, she was surprised and confused- But she soon became honored at such a grand title, and in a sense, also quite undeserving. Maybe that was just her being far too humble (A trait that the press had been quick to pick up on as soon as she was included in the prestigious list of ultimates…) But she couldn’t help but think of every other pianist she’d met who could be far more deserving. She didn’t exactly know the criteria, but she was fairly certain she wouldn’t top any of them…

But her reaction was nothing compared to Ibuki’s, who in her usual fashion exploded in a colorful mix of bizarre comparisons and wondrous words she’d just made up a few seconds ago. Kaede wasn’t sure if her complaints was her being humble or simply disgruntled at the fact that her title was something general like “Musician” and not specialized like “Rocker”- But overall, the trio couldn’t help but but be excited at their future prospects now they they had been included in something as large as this.

The UTDP was in equal parts an experiment and summer education for ultimates. All the chosen ultimates, ranging from high schoolers all the way to those almost done with college- Would live and learn together in a remote location for an entire year, with their only supervision being other ultimates. 

So as Kaede stepped out of her car and surveyed the teeming throngs of unusual characters and rows upon rows of equally crazy vehicles, she couldn’t help but smile.

This might just be the best year of her life!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though this is a short chapter, i'll still provide my (Possibly unwanted) thoughts, as promised.
> 
> As I said in the newly revised summary, a lot of this fic is trying out character combinations that would never reasonably happen in canon, whether due to the structure of the killing game or its events, being in different games, or... You know, being in a fanganronpa or DR3. And to start us off, we have the combination of Ibuki, Kotoko, and Kaede- The "Goon Squad" (As Ibuki later calls it) Which I feel goes together quite well, as they all have fairly energetic and quirky personalities, plus the common trend of performance arts between all three- Plus it wasn't too hard to work up a reasonable way for them to get together before the events in a (hopefully) enjoyable way.
> 
> This one was short, because as mentioned in the starting notes it was more of a pilot than anything. Arguably I could use this brevity in later chapters, but I am more or less writing this to splurge about how much I love DR's writing and characters and to share my love (And sometimes) weird headcanons with anybody who stumbles upon it, so eh.
> 
> We also have the first mention of an SDRA2 character- Nikei, who is great! He gets a bit shafted here because he doesn't have much of a purpose but to bring the plot, but he luckily gets some pretty good attention in a bit within the Hajime chapter.
> 
> Chapter meme title: Goon squad, assemble!


	2. Rhapsody in blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaede finally begins her journey into the UTDP- Meeting some new friends and getting into contact with a few old ones along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter heavily features the character Setsuka Chiebokoro and lightly features Kokoro Mitsume from Super Dangan Ronpa Another 2, an incredible fangame. Translations of the game can be found on youtube up to trial four, but are in no way required for this fic. You can look up full spritesheets if you need a visual aid!
> 
> Sorry if the conversation is a bit drawn out- It was spliced from an earlier version of this fic, and there's way too many great character moments for me to give up on.

Kaede awkwardly ambled up to one of the tables processing ultimates, her deft ears picking up snippets of conversation everywhere.

“No, that was a lie. What? You really thought I actually was a fan of someone as terrible as you? Nishishishi!”

“....Komaeda, but that really doesn’t matter. What’s your name? Your talent?”

“Cute kids detected!”

“Nyeh, I’m too tired to use my maaaagic right now….”

“You! Stop! Running is strictly disallowed in this area!”

“...Oh, I’m… Just a normal girl, that’s all. I’m only really here because of my brother….”

Her mind wandered down distant, thorny paths wondering about the individual stories of each of those voices… Wondering and hoping that maybe soon she’d be able to hear them.

On the other side of the table was a girl with a spectacularly piercing look, only amplified by her large spectacles that made her look like an owl. She had two long tufts of brown hair that extended down the front of her head almost like antennae, alongside a maroon sweater and a lab coat over it.

“Name, Talent?” She murmured quietly but with purpose.

“Kae-“

She nodded, scribbling something down on a clipboard. “You’re with group V-3”

“W-wait, I didn’t even give you my name. How can you be sure you even know who I am?”

She gave a level stare. “Kaede Akamatsu. Ultimate Pianist. Well known for her tours in Europe and the America’s. You’ve performed in front of royalty, presidents, and various of the world’s elites. You’re known as the “Ivory Fairy” among your fans, and “Piano Freak” among your friends and detractors.”

Kaede blushed, staring at the ground. “I’m… Surprised you know that much about me. You must… Really do your research.”

“Most of it was guesswork, but I appreciate you confirming. It’ll make my pattern recognition more consistent.”

Kaede stared in shock. “W-Wait, exactly what part of it was guesswork…?”

“Anyways, we have a while until we’re ready to depart because we’re still waiting on a few arrivals, so you’re free to mingle until then. When it’s time to go, your bus will be the one with the very loud purple individual near it.”

“Uh… Okay.” Kaede awkwardly got out. “But… Can I at least get your name?”

The woman paused, wide-eyed for a moment, before nodding. “Alright, it’s Kokoro Mistume, Ultimate Psychologist. I’m one of the major student leads on this project.” She quickly broke eye contact, staring down at the clipboard. “I hope that’s sufficient. I usually don’t find it necessary to talk about myself.”

“Oh, that’s amazing, Kokoro!” Kaede beamed. “A talent that helps so many people and is so interesting at the same time… Honestly, I’d love to see what’s going on in people’s heads sometimes. You must love your practice!”

“...” Kokoro remained silent, almost as if she hadn’t even heard.

“Umm… Kokoro?”

“It’s something like that.” She answered quietly. “You should get moving. I need to process the next entrant.”

“Oh! Yeah… Of course.” Kaede bit her lip, glancing up at Kokoro before shuffling away. 

She was really hopeless. That short of an interaction with somebody, and she already greedily wanted to know more about them, to become friends and help them- Even though it was someone who clearly would never be interested in something like that. And all of this, and she hadn’t even begun to work out her own issues-

Maybe, just maybe this whole year would fix that part of her, instead of exacerbating it. Well, she could only hope. 

“Kaeayay!” She was suddenly jostled out of her thoughts by a warm and comforting presence embracing her from behind. “Since when did you get such adorable friends?”

She couldn’t help that her face went beet red in an instant, especially since that person’s breasts were pressing into the back of her head- “Setsuka, you scared me. You know how jumpy I can be.”

“Ah, but I hadn’t seen you for so long! You know I had to make an entrance for one of my cutest kids.”

Setsuka spun Kaede around, and she finally got a good look at an old friend.

Setsuka Chiebukuro was a stylish looking woman, perhaps one of the more well-dressed people here- Wearing a striped gray shirt and tie with a red vest and pants adorned with diamonds. Her skin was pale, an almost ghostly white- Although not a lot of it was exposed. Her cerulean hair was clipped on the left side with a yellow billiard clip that clearly showed off her talent, but by far her most prominent features was her odd tendency to always keep her right eye shut.

She was both a little older and taller than Kaede- Although not by much, but that didn’t stop her from adopting a habit of acting a bit like an aunt to everyone she met, regardless of their age. 

“You dote on me too much, Setsuka…” Kaede smiled, although her face was still flushed. Setsuka was the kind of person who could always lift you up and clear your mind, like a spring breeze- The kind of person Kaede wished she could be.

“I… Guess that means you’ve met Kotoko and Ibuki, huh?” Kaede asked.

“Mmm-Hmm. Mmmm-hmmm…. I have to say, Kaeyayay, that Ibuki Bookers is a wild child, but maybe you can tame her?” Setsuka raised her one eye suggestively.

“You think too much, Setsuka…” Kaede said quietly. “But I’m glad you get along well with them.”

“Get along well with them? Of course big sis would get along with such adorable children. This is going to be fun, teasing all of you relentlessly…”

Kaede sighed. “I’m sure it will be… At least for you. For us? I don’t know…”

Setsuka chuckled, before patting her on the back. “It’ll be fine, Kaeyayay. I’m sure there will be plenty of other cuties I can tease besides you three. Speaking of which…” She seemed distracted by a group of passing students, grinning before dashing off like a madwoman.

Smiling silently to herself, Kaede watched as Setsuka inserted herself into yet another group’s dynamic, likely causing a wave of embarrassment they’d likely never seen. Still, she had a unique quality to somehow never come off as annoying despite any of it.

“Gosh, Kayaday, how in the worlds did you meet her?” Ibuki began soft-loudly in her usual fashion as her and Kotoko sidled up to Kaede. 

“Long story, actually…” She mumbled to herself in spite of the expectant looks on her companion’s faces. “I don’t know if you guys would wanna bother with it.”

“Nope, now you have thoroughly captured my world-devouring curiosity!” Said Kotoko jubilantly. “Besides, it’s not like we have anything better to do- From what I heard, we’re going to be here for a while waiting on all the slow-poke turtles. Old turtles. Old turtles in ice cubes. ”

Kaede smirked at Kotoko for that comment. “You’re one to talk when you spend long enough preparing your makeup for me to play an entire piece- And not the short ones, either; the ones with more movements than you can shake a conductor’s baton at.”

Of course, Kotoko reacted with her flawless technique, a pout so powerful it could move mountains. “Some of us need to put in work to look adorbs, Kaede.” You could tell she was just a bit miffed by the fact she didn’t use her cloying nickname.

“Less bellililigering, more storytiming, Kaede! Ibuki has subsumed Kotoko’s curiosity, which has grown to universe-devouring proportions- And it can only be sated by your explanations! Quickly, before I nom-nom the stars and the planets!” Ibuki begged with no regard for the conversation at hand- With her own uniquely bizarre addendums, nonsense-words, and comparisons, of course.

“Okay, okay, but you guys have to promise not to interrupt me constantly this time! It’s hard to actually finish when you guys are tugging me around to different topics like the strings on a harpsichord.”

To her plea, she only received two slightly guilty faces who did their best to avoid eye contact.

“Oh, come on! You guys can't even promise that?”

“I want to be freed of Kaede’s suffocating story-based regime! It’s Ibuki’s right to stick it to the wo-man!”

“Yeah! We won't be oppressed by you, Kaede! You’re… So cruel!” Kotoko continued off of Ibuki’s chaotic energy without a second thought, like the two were in tune- Although despite her acting prowess, she couldn’t commit to the joke enough to keep herself from nearly bursting out into laughter.

“VIVE LA REVOLUTION!” Ibuki screamed out- Attracting all sorts of attention that Kaede was certainly conscious of, although Ibuki couldn’t seem to care less.

Shaking her head, Kaede relented with a grin. “Alright, alright you two. But I at least don’t want any complaints if it turns out to not be as enjoyable as Kotoko’s grand exaggerated spectacles she always claims “100% totes happened” “

“Oh, come on.” Kotoko tried to look displeased, but a smile worked its way out of her frown. “I’ve told you before, my stories are 100% accurate- And besides, who wants to hear something that’s boring? Life’s an adventure, you gotta make it sound like one! Nobody wants a tone-deaf narrator, or someone who just lists off words instead of really speaking them. Like in high school, where your classmates would just drone on and on reading- Can’t you put a bit more spunk into it?”

“And yet- you’ve never complained about my stories.”

“That’s exactly the point! We could never hate your stories, because you’re the one telling them to us!”

  
“So… You admit they're boring.”

“...No? Ibuki, back me up here.”

In response, Ibuki spun around and pressed her back against Kotoko’s. “You’re backed up!”

Kaede chuckled at the sheer frivolity of the situation, before shaking her head. “Alright, if I don’t start now we never will, and you guys will bother me about it later.

“So, it all began when I was playing at one of her billiard tournaments-” Unsurprisingly, Kaede was cut off almost as soon as she began talking.

“Kayaday was playing at a billiards tournament? Ibuki thinks that’s kind of weird… Isn’t Kaede super renowned and stuffs? Why would you be playing at a small-time gig like that?” 

“Gah, I wouldn’t really call myself renowned- And it wasn’t just any tournament. It was an international tournament, with some of the best players in the world. Granted, if I thought I was some big-shot I would have declined… But it sounded interesting, and it's not like they were gouging me out of pay or anything.”

“But for Setsuka to be at one of those…” Ibuki tilted her head in thought. “She must be uber, uber good! Predicting the path of pool balls like planetary orbits!”

“Well, an ultimate is an ultimate, I guess. Back then we were both in high school, but she wasn’t the only person on the younger side competing, surprisingly enough. I’m not sure if any were in high school like us, but there were definitely a few college kids.”

“But mostly adults, yeah?” Clarified Kotoko

“Of course. I couldn’t imagine how she must have felt, staring down so many people so much older than her… But she managed to be so positive and lighthearted throughout the entire thing.” Kaede blushed a bit, realizing she’d been pulled off topic by Kotoko and Ibuki- Again.

“A-anyways.” Kaede continued, “Most of the times I play I’m the center of attention- concerts and all. But sometimes I go out of my way to pick out performances where I’m more of a… Side show, I guess? Weddings, funerals, events. That’s what led me to even playing at Setsuka’s competition in the first place.”

“Huh. Weeeeeird.” Kotoko said, drawing out the “weird” for quite a few seconds. “Didn’t you become a pianist so you could play in front of everyone? I know I became an actress so that I could perform in front of a crowd, see countless eyes on me… Live a different life in front of so many different lives ...”

“I don't know if that’s why I do it exactly- I just really like to express myself and show people something different, but I can’t imagine settling into the background like that…” Added Ibuki

“Even if we’re all performers, I think our reasonings couldn’t be more different. When I’m on the stage, it isn’t about me- You know? It’s about the music, and the message and emotion it brings- I’m just the dork who summons it.”

“Summons it? What, is that your stand, 「Piano Man」?” Kotoko poised.

“Kotoko, stop making references to your crazy, noisy, bizarre anime. You know I’m never going to get them.”

“This whole issue would be solved if Kaede just relented and watched it with us…” Singsonged Ibuki

“And even if you never do, it’s worth it for that adorbs look on your face- It’s a couple of seconds of you just being like “wat”. It’s like all those really good images people take of animals where they’re like “you seeing this shit?” You know those pictures, ri-“

“Kotoko, Ibuki-, you’re the ones who wanted the story. You’re going to have to let me finish it.”

“Fine, fine.”

“Ibuki also accepts your conditions.”

“Anyways, my performances should never be about me- They should be about the music and the songs, and the feelings behind them. That’s why sometimes, it’s better that I’m in a setting that better captures that emotion- After all, there’s only so much I can do in a concert hall, right? I’ve gotten a lot of comments that I’ve brought people to tears, which is… Flattering and all, but at the end of the day I feel like too much attention is being put on me.”

“Ibuki really doesn’t understand where you’re getting at with this, Kaede- I think you deserve all the attention you get! If your super delicate songs like a busybody spider’s lacy beautiful webs can satisfy even my rambunctious moods, you gotta have something going for you!”

“I have to agree with Ibuki here- I already know you’re a huge dork who never wants to take credit for her work. Kaeds, you’re the performer- Obviously the song and music are important, but at the end of the day… You’re the one playing them!” Kotoko… Actually looked a bit irritated about how little credit Kaede was giving herself, which only managed to frustrate Kaede further. That wasn’t at all what she was trying to say!

“Bluh, you two are not getting it! It’s true I’m the one playing the music, and obviously I want some amount of prestige for what I do, but when people leave the concert hall… I don’t want them to remember me. Okay, well I'd like it if they’d remember me, but that’s not the point! The point is, I’d be completely anonymous if it meant the notes I played were more impactful. You get what I’m saying? When I’m at a funeral and I’m playing a requiem-“ (Kaede ignored Kotoko and Ibuki snickering for some reason) “The music speaks for itself. It helps people grieve. Helps them let go. When I’m playing jubilant, joyous songs at a wedding, it helps everyone feel that same joy. At those times, it… Really isn’t about me, is it? I’m just a girl sitting in the corner playing the piano, smiling because everyone else is smiling, too.”

“Alright, alright, I see what smooth vibmotions Kaede is handing out here, even if Ibuki doesn’t completely understand.” It was amazing to Kaede that someone so loud like Ibuki could still be so considerate. On the other hand...

“Dork.” Said Kotoko without a second thought.

“Blargh!”

Although, that wasn’t the end of it. “But hey, I get what you mean. I like the smiles too, and I want people to remember the stories I help tell. But… I guess the difference is that theatre kind of demands attention, huh? It’s not as subtle.”

“I… Wouldn’t say that. I think it’s more just a difference in thinking- You guys perform because you want to be in the spotlight! Which is fine, but I think if I were in your shoes, I’d perform only because I want to do the story or song justice, and evoke powerful emotions!”

“Is that saying you’ll try theatre with me?” Kotoko’s beaming smile was hard to say no to.

“Oh! How about that duet we’ve been scheming about?” Ibuki tacked on. 

“Ah, um… About those, I’ll think about it. As you can guess, I’m not the best with audiences.”

“Says the world-renowned pianist.” Scoffed Kotoko.

“I never said I was never anxious at performances! There’s a very clear difference between playing a character and playing a sheet of music, darn it! As for you, Ibuki, negativity just seems to bounce off you like you’re wearing armor. And… Drat, did you guys seriously get us off topic again?”

“I admit nothing.”

“Kaede: 0 The goon squad: 2” proudly acclaimed Ibuki with an impish grin. 

“Moving on- It was the same at Setsuka’s competition, just… A fair bit different than something as extreme as a wedding or funeral. More casual, letting people lean back and relax… It was a nice challenge to find good music to fit the mood. I was really enjoying just being able to sit back, play some sweet music, and watch some cool people play some cool pool.”

“ I spotted Setsuka pretty early on- She’s not exactly easy to miss, but in a good way!”

“You’re saying she’s cute.” Kotoko smirked.

Kaede countered with “Am I wrong?” 

“...No.”

“Definitely not! Setsee has this kind of mysterious mojo about her- Like a girl on a mission… To find who ate the last slice of pizza.” Ibuki tangentially said.

“But at the time, I just figured she’d just be another person I’d spectate, craning my neck over sheet music to get a better look at what was actually going on.”

Ibuki began speaking like an old-fashioned narrator. “And now, The goon squad and Kaede in the future can laugh at this statement which couldn’t be further from the truth.”

“Yep, pretty much. Like I said, I could tell Setsuka was a friendly joker, but what I didn’t expect was for her to approach me during an intermission. Actually… Approach probably isn’t the right word. Like uh…”

“Jumpscare?” Kotoko raised her eyebrows. “Spooky Setsuka scaring snively Kaede? Like a low-res face and a scream, or someone yelling boo, or…”

“It’s not like she meant to scare me. I just… Wasn’t expecting someone to tap me on the shoulder while I was playing. And besides, for as wholesome of a person as she is normally, you’ve seen how threatening she can be under the right circumstances.”

“Somehow, knowing Setsuka, I seriously doubt her scaring you was accidental.” 

“No, she wouldn’t try to scare someone she just m- Actually, no, that’s exactly what she’d do.”

“And then, after she scared your hair on end, she probably laughed, right?”

“I mean, it being Setsuka- of course she did. It wasn’t a mocking laugh or anything: she’s not the type to do that. More of a “Laugh with you, we’re both dorks here” kinda thing.” 

“But you still got embarrassed because you’re a self-conscious dork.”

“You repeating “dork” over and over doesn’t make it any funnier, you know.” Kaede narrowed her eyes slightly at Kotoko.

“Do you want me to go back to “Piano freak?”

“Oh! Ibuki can volunteer all sorts of other names. Note Fiend, Stanza Gremlin, Clef Demon, Key Devil…”

“Err, no thanks. So, yeah I was pretty embarrassed. But like everything, she was super cool about it- she sort of has this aura around her that naturally calms you down. Maybe her casual demeanor is just infectious, but… Well, I was a bit confused when she decided to stand there by me and start up a conversation. I figured she just wanted a song request or something.”

“Well of course she wanted to talk to you. You’re Kaede Akamatsu, gosh darn it.” Kotoko insisted.

“It’s not like that- Really! Like I said, if it were at a concert it’d make sense, but in this case she was going out of her way to strike up a conversation. I was in a corner of the room, sitting and playing- I figured she had more important things to catch up on with her fellow billiards players, you know. Especially since- She is good at pool. Like really, really good at pool.”

“The conversation started out pretty normal by Setsuka standards- She’s a joker and likes to poke fun, but also likes to compliment you; she’s got a way of worming her way into your heart and getting you to blush no matter who you are. We talked about music and my lifestyle for a while, and eventually when we got to the topic of the competition she asked me a weird question.”

“C’mon, don’t leave us waiting Kaeds! What was it?”

“She asked me if I wanted to stop playing for a while and talk with some of the people around the competition.”

Ibuki held her hands to her face, mouth open in a bit of exaggerated surprise. “You’re right, that is weird. Who goes up to someone who was literally paid to play at an event and asks them if they want to take a break?”

“Well, that’s what I told her- Not quite as… Rude about it, of course. And she explained it pretty well.”

Kaede put on her best Setsuka impression, which admittedly wasn’t the best (It was hard for the more emotional, upfront Kaede to mimic Setsuka’s laid back nature) but it at the very least got quite a few chuckles out of Kotoko and Ibuki.

‘ _“Aw, it’s nothing, Kaeayay. I’ve just been watching you peeking over that piano all through the games, is all- I figured you might want to join in a little, right? I'm sure everyone here would love meeting you.”_ ‘

“I was, of course, pretty shocked when she said that- It was kinda unbelievable that out of everyone, she spotted and paid attention to me in the corner while playing. So I said.. _‘I… Well, it’s true, I'd like to meet some of the people I saw- but i’ll just have to hope that I can meet them after the event. I’m contributing the most my just playing like this- I’ve had concerts longer than this, so I'm not even a little tired- You should just worry about playing your A game out there!’_ “

“ _‘Big sis didn’t really come to this tournament to win, Kaeayay: I’m not much of a pool shark. I might, but… What I really came here to do was have a good time, right? And i’m having the best time when everyone else is, too. Plus, I absolutely can’t pass up teasing a cutie like you, right?’_ “

“It was… Really weird. I’ve had competitions where I felt like my heart would beat right out of my chest and onto the stanza that had less stakes than the one she was playing in, yet she treated it like it was absolutely nothing. It was… Admirable in some ways. I mean, I wish I could be that calm! But at the same time, I really got the sense she should have been taking… Just about everything more seriously.”

“Honestly, I think you should maybe take after her example a bit more, Kaeds. You let things get to you too much- Maybe I'm not as lax as Setsuka, but I'm chill most of the time, yeah? Chill like an ice cube. Chill like… A polar bear. Chill like…” Kotoko trailed off into nothing.

“Yeah, I never have any troubs about stuff like that, either- Although, admittedly Ibuki kind of just does what she wants all the time…” Ibuki said sheepishly. 

“I think your confidence is a lot different than hers. You know you’re going to succeed and make it to the top, but she just… Seems to not care. Bah, maybe that’s not the right way to put it. She cares, it's just…” Kaede was struggling to find the words, grasping at the air with her fingers as if she were trying to pull meaning out of it.

“Take your time, Kaeds.” Encouraged Kotoko.” We aren’t on a clock, aren’t on a timer, aren’t on a time, are we? Maybe find a song to explain how you feel about her. That might clear it up.”

“...Yeah, you’re right. Anyways, I understood even less in the moment- But I did my best to affirm her. ‘Well, if you insist- But eh, I can’t just leave the piano, you know? I’m kind of obliged to do this.’ “

“Setsuka grinned like she had an ace up her sleeve. _‘Leave it to big sis. You trust me, right?’_ “

“Naturally, I got even more confused. Setuka’s just kind of a confusing person, after all. _‘What?’_ “

‘ _“I can’t reveal all my tricks to you, now can I? Now get going.”_ She ended, and ushered me off. ‘

“And then… Well, I felt like I would regret it, but I did it. I got up and talked around, and met some pretty cool people. Over all, I'm pretty glad I did.” 

“And what was Setsuka’s trick?” Kotoko asked, eagerly awaiting the answer.

Kaede blinked a few times. “Oh… That? She just played in my stead.” 

“Say whaaaaaaaaaaat?” Gasped Ibuki.

“It was pretty surprising in the moment, but looking back on it I should have expected it. She seems like someone who splashes herself pretty thoroughly in a lot of different areas, so it’s only natural she would have picked up some time on the piano.”

“Buuuut… Was she good enough to take over for the ultimate pianist for a bit?” Kotoko wiggled her eyebrows.

Kaede smiled and placed her hands behind her back. “Honestly? Yeah.”

“A-and before you’re saying that just because I'm a dork who can’t insult people, she was actually really good! Obviously she wasn’t the best, and was worse than most concert musicians, but still pretty swell for someone whose talent has nothing to do with music. The thing I admire most is that the music came from the heart- It’s nothing I can quantify exactly, but I just get this… Feeling, right? You can tell when someone really puts their heart and soul into a performance, and even if her play was sloppy at points, at the very least she played her heart out.”

“Aw, see, there’s that trademark wholesome Kaede coming out again. It’s just so hard to feel down around you!” Kotoko teased.

“Well, uh… Thanks, Kotoko. Anyways, nothing came of our swap, and we traded back a little bit later when the intermission was over. I’m… Not quite sure many people noticed what happened besides those I talked to, actually. Setsuka crushed the rest of the tournament, we got in touch, and the rest is history.” 

“Alright. Pretty good story, not gonna lie.But, is it as good as-”

“Haha, you thought!” Kaede suddenly shouted. “There’s more!”

“Kaeds, you’re really bad at trying to trick people, even in small ways like that. You’re too pure.” Kotoko didn’t look impressed in the slightest.

“...Man, I really am a dork, aren’t I? Well, like I was saying, there’s one more thing that happened. It was after the tournament, everyone was packing up and leaving- And Setsuka approached me with a manilla envelope. She had another weird request… And this time, she was asking like it was a lot for her to ask.”

“C’mon, C’mon! Spit it out!” 

“She wanted me to talk to one of the players- A younger girl, but still older than me at the time. In college, probably. Apparently she was in one of the bathrooms.” 

“...I can see where this is going.”

“Really? I thought it was just an innocent request at the time.”

“You really need to learn to read the air, Kaeds.”

“Like Ibuki!” She licked the air in an exaggerated fashion. “The air is… Salty.”

“Speak for yourself, Kotoko- miss run-on sentence. So, of course I did what she asked! The girl in question was… Well, she was pretty. Sunset-orange hair, an expensive looking dress that matched her teal eyes, and an uneasy smile on her face. At least, when I saw her while playing- When I found her in the bathroom, she was hunched over a sink, crying.”

“Oh.” Kotoko mumbled.

“Oh indeed. It’s at this point I realized that Setsuka probably called me in to console her, but at the time I didn’t realize why she couldn’t have done it- After all, she seemed better with those sorts of things. We talked for a bit, and even though she was a hard one to crack, I got her to open up just a little bit. I learned that the reason she was crying was because she lost.”

Kotoko looked unsure. “That’s it?”

“Not quite. It was the fact that Setsuka beat her. She… She had the feeling that Setsuka wasn’t taking anything seriously, so it hurt so, so much more. Apparently Setsuka even talking to her like a friend made the sound within her mind all the more raucous, till she broke down. That was her life, and she felt like she’d been upstaged by someone who didn’t care.”

“...”

“I… Did my best to cheer her up. I reminded her how this wasn’t the end, how she still scored well- How she should trust in herself in her talent, how she should let her passion prove her worth. She even seemed to not really blame Setsuka. She was just…. Disappointed In herself. I think what finally cheered her up is when I took her back outside and played the Gymnopedies, but… It was less uplifting and more reflective. She seemed to realize something, somewhere in that calm lake of notes. At the end, I handed her the envelope- And she took one look inside and handed it back. With a pained smile, she said ‘Tell her I can’t accept this.’ And left.”

“What was in the envelope?”

“I’ll never know- it wasn’t my place to peek, and Setsuka won’t tell me. She says a woman needs her secrets… After all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, listen. I know I wasted your time with a conversation largely revolving around a character you probably haven't even seen before this fic, and some of you probably clicked off halfway through said conversation. But gosh darnit this conversation was from an earlier, much more stupid version of this fic and im way to attached to it to let it go. In order to justify putting in something I probably shouldn't have, here's some things I love from this conversation:
> 
> \- Kotoko's Jojo References  
> \- Goon squad origination  
> \- Exploration into how Kaede feelings about performing and how it's different from Kotoko and Ibuki
> 
> and uh... more stuff I forgot about. Listen, i'm sorry, okay?
> 
> That aside, Setsuka is great, her auntly persona is unique and I love her. Not saying much else because of SDRA2 spoilers and the fact most people reading this probably haven't watched it, but regardless...
> 
> This chapter also touches on Kaede's "Flaw", at least in my eyes- Her extreme selflessness. Usually this isn't really a character flaw and it's kind of a meme for people to say that their mary sue's character flaw is "Caring about their friends too much", but there's a difference between that and ignoring your own feelings and safety to go out of your way to do things for other people or do stupid things. It's ultimately what causes Kaede's death- Her feeling and insatiable need to save everyone and make sure everyone could get out.
> 
> Let's talk about Ibuki! She doesn't have any flaws. No, wait! Don't kill me yet! Let me explain!
> 
> I didn't mean that as a bad thing, and it's a bit of an exaggeration since she does have flaws- Just, compared to every other Danganronpa character who usually have very clearly defined flaws Ibuki's general comfort with herself and others sticks out a little... But in a good way. She's a nice compliment to a lot of characters and Hajime in particular which is why their free time events are so great (For once, its the character helping Hajime with his issues and to be more comfortable with himself rather than the other way around) And generally embodies her lackadaisical, high-energy nature with not a care in the world and being truly comfortable in her own skin. This is why I think splicing flaws into her character isn't really a way to go about writing her in a fic... Rather, lean into what makes her so iconic and likable, and so tragic that she got so shunted ingame (We'll talk about trial 3 DR2 in another chapter, and how much I LOATHE it)
> 
> Oh yeah, and Kokoro! Kokoro is great, and as the resident uber stoic Dandere of SDRA2, joining the ranks of Peko, Kyoko and Maki which naturally makes me like her a lot. Anyone familiar with the SDRA2 storyline may remember that she does some... Questionable things outside of the killing game which earns her the ire of a lot of people and immediately dropped her down on everyone's tierlists collectively when it was revealed, but I personally like it as well as her character. Notably, her actual lack of emotions besides curiosity- As opposed to repressed (Kyoko) undeveloped (Peko) or conditioned away emotions (Maki)
> 
> Chapter meme name: Goon squad 2- Eclectic Boogaloo


	3. Danse Macabre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the charter bus ride to the UTDP, Kyoko is accosted by Sayaka Maizono for unusual reasons.

Kyoko Kirigiri was somewhat peeved at the unfortunate knowledge that she would be devoting her entire summer to the UTDP. Although the experience posited a great opportunity to hone her craft and establish relationships that may be vital going forward, she knew that the best teacher would always be actual fieldwork and not hypotheticals. This summer would essentially be an unprovoked break to her ever-endless search for the truth.

She had nearly declined, after all- In spite of the possible benefits, the very nature of the experiment as an isolated experience away from her work meant she was naturally predisposed against it. But, unfortunately the matter was out of her hands regardless.

* * *

The office of Miaya Gekkogahara was a place of many obvious contradictions. A professional, mellow and calming atmosphere you’d expect from a therapist- Save for the very unprofessional and childlike additions of figurines and posters from anime, along with the avatar on a tablet through which all communication with Miaya happened.

Similarly, although one would expect the burden of anxiety and stress to lie upon the patient under scrutiny, if her avatar’s emotions were anything to go by it was Miaya who was experiencing frustration at the whole ordeal.

“Kyoko, we can't just keep going back and forth like this.” The chipper tone of an anthropomorphized anime-girl Usami pleaded. “I keep passing the ball to your court, yet you never hit it back to me.”

“I hardly think now is the time for tennis metaphors, Miaya. I don’t see how what I’ve told you isn’t sufficient for the time being.”

It had been about a year ago, now when Kyoko had been strong-armed into therapy under threat of unemployment by her agency. It had started fairly benign, at first- Suggestions here and there that it was probably recommended, till it escalated to a final ultimatum.

Of course, Kyoko understood why. She was young, younger than possibly any other detective in the country- Much less her agency. She worked on homicide cases- The kind where seeing bloody crime scenes and bodies in morgues was not only common, but expected. It’s not unreasonable to expect even the most hardened person needed some form of counseling from all that.

Yet despite knowing that, that didn’t stop the irrational thoughts to seethe viciously within her mind; That she was somehow different, that having to portion out hours fairly frequently that could have been used elsewhere was an injustice. And the knowledge that she was harboring the same kind of unreasonable emotion within herself that she worked against only served to exacerbate the unexpressed discomfort she felt at the whole situation.

But she was better than making an ordeal out of the whole thing, and merely resigned herself to therapy- Under the condition she was able to choose her therapist herself.

They needed to be qualified, of course, but also knowledgeable enough with Kyoko’s work to hold informed discussions with her about her work. In the end, she settled for Miaya- Despite Kyoko’s slight discomfort at having to talk through her rabbit medium due to Miaya’s condition. The two had crossed paths a few times before, as Miaya counseled victims too petrified to get any meaningful testimony out of until Kyoko could work with them, so she at the very least expected her to remain courteous and professional.

When Kyoko informed Miaya of the new arrangement, she was ecstatic- she seemed to be anticipating not only being able to help Kyoko, but also deepen their relationship with a person she’d come to admire. She even changed her avatar to a more human like one, if still cartoony.

Unfortunately, the initial hubbub of positive emotions soon stilled out into some muted aggravation Miaya had at Kyoko for her unwillingness to divulge much, or take much of anything she said to heart.

Although Miaya’s actual physical body remained still save for the slightest crease in her face and the movement of her eyes, the always exaggerated rabbit persona was a whole different story.

“Kyoko, you have to realize I’m trying to help you, right? That’s what we’re here to do- To try to help you live a healthier life where you’re more comfortable with yourself and others. But you need to be willing to sacrifice just a little bit of your unwavering resolve and let me, even if just a smidgen into your personal life. You don’t have to tell me everything- And I don’t expect you to open the floodgates and gush about every past trauma. You don’t even need to tell me anything more- I just want you to listen to what I have to say. In the same way I would trust you in a heartbeat to handle a case, I want you to be willing to trust that what I have to say about your personal health is worth listening to.”

Kyoko paused, feeling her mind groan at the strain to keep her face still. She knew and understood that what Miaya was saying was right- After all, who would have the audacity to question a professional? Yet, the troublesome and erratic thoughts in her head danced and laughed with sheer frivolity, playing their impish games in spite of reason or logic. She knew how she should feel, and yet she still felt frustration at Miaya for her persistence.

Her logic and her emotions were locked in a heated bind between one another, despite her fickle feelings arguing for her personal bias to distance herself and dedicate herself to her work rather than to entertain any other fleeting things. The two raged and ravaged across her thoughts without her face showing a sign at all, all the while the encroaching ouroboros of emptiness in her mind churned sickenly.

But for a trained professional like Miaya, she could at least deduce some of the lashing conflict in Kyoko’s mind, even from relatively little signs. Especially since Kyoko’s usually busy hands paused on the puzzlebox the two had been working on (It had become a way for the two to bond, even silently)

“I understand, Miaya. But I don’t quite get what my… Unwillingness to take your advice has to do with my personal decision to not participate in the Ultimate Talent Development Plan.” Kyoko spoke with a fluid speech that had hardly any imperfections, despite the significant work that was required to force the words out.

Anime girl Usami gave out an exasperated sigh. “This is the problem, Kyoko.” She retrieved a comically large calendar from behind her out of seemingly nowhere that was littered with markings. “Do you know what this is?”

Kyoko narrowed her eyes slightly. “I have an idea.”

“You probably do, because these-“ She gestured emphatically to dozens of blue markings on weekdays. “Are all of the days you stayed after hours at the office and got dramatically less sleep than I’d recommend for someone of your age. And these-“ She pointed at a litany of notable red “X”s on the sheet “Are all of the federally mandated holidays you, by your own admission, worked at home on anyways. Kyoko, you haven’t taken a real break in the year I’ve known you- Not for friends, not for family, not for yourself nor anyone else.”

The air in the room settled to an uncomfortable stiffness, like it was all coarse cloth trapping the both of them. Miaya’s avatar looked with a concerned, almost pleading look, while Kyoko, for once in her life- Avoided eye contact, staring down at the puzzle with only the slightest hints of embarrassment pulling at her features.

But inside, as much as she wished they weren’t, as suppressed and tiny as they were- Her emotions were running amok in some sort of savage festival. Shame, regret and that familiar undertone of frustration that always followed her into this room. After all, Miaya had been telling her this entire time that she needed a break, and she hadn’t listened.

“I’m a professional.” Kyoko worked out slowly, turning every word with clockwork precision- Yet the emptiness behind still showed through. “My work is… Very important to me.”

Usami smiled with a bittersweet, tempered expression that showed a truly masterful empathy. “Kyoko, I understand your work’s important to you- It’s one of the things I admire about you so, so much, and my work’s important to me, too. It’s why I’m pushing so hard to try and get you to realize that your health is your career’s health. And this isn’t just about you, either- You know you’re a role model to young girls everywhere, right? Maybe not as much as Sayaka Maizono or Hibiki Otonokoji; but there’s so many kids who grew up reading detective novels and look to you as an example that yes, they can do this. The soon-to-be women of the workplace- Imagine what it would do to them if you burned out, if a headline came out tomorrow that you had to take a break, not of your own volition but because you worked yourself till you collapsed under the weight.”

Miaya’s medium took a moment to catch her breath and collect her thoughts, closing her eyes before opening them again- With a far more hopeful smile this time. “Which is why it really pains me to see you turn down the Ultimate Talent Development Plan without a second thought. This is a chance people would dream for- And I understand that you’re a unique and in some aspects unusual person who doesn’t have a care in the world about something like fame or prestige any more than as a tool to help you find the truth. But this is a really good opportunity for you- And I’m not just saying that as one of the ultimate leads on the project. It’s either this, a once in a lifetime experience that still has to do with your profession- Or I force you to take an actual vacation that has nothing to do with your job at all.”

Usami reached out and pressed her hand against the screen, as if trying to reach out and physically comfort Kyoko herself. “And I really and truly do hope you understand that I’m forcing your hand here not just as your therapist, but as someone who cares deeply about you and- I hope, at least- Your friend.”

* * *

  
So that was the state of affairs, and why Kyoko found herself intermingling with a crowd of raucous characters on a luxurious charter bus; doing her best to tune out the nonsensical banter that the pride of today’s youth was spouting out. 

At the very least she was prepared, with a method to keep both her hands, ears, and most importantly mind busy for the journey ahead. As she reviewed case files in audio format, she set out to move her deft hands to pick a series of locks she’d brought along in her bag.

Kyoko didn’t have many hobbies that didn’t pertain to her career, simply because of how all-encompassing it was in her life. Lock picking was perhaps the least germane of all of those, only having minimal application in understanding how some criminals used non-destructive forced entry methods.

And yet, it was still deeply intriguing to her- the back-and-forth between lockmakers and lockpicking hobbyists as new security measures were devised and then promptly bypassed was fascinating, and the skill itself both prompted physical skill and a fair amount of forethought and critical thinking.

For instance, the lock she was currently working on was unique in its implementation of trap pins, devices that would fall down and lock up the core entirely if a picker wasn’t careful or knowledgeable enough to work around them. Although useful in thwarting potential thieves, the possibility of being locked out of your home until a locksmith could come and remove the lodged pins meant it was only really useful in situations where keeping others out was more important than letting yourself in.

The plan had been to keep herself focused for the entire ride, perhaps even working in occasional bouts of sleep along the way- Even despite the constant shenanigans she overheard from her classmates. Boisterous boasting from Leon, unprovoked rants on the nature of fairly trivial things from Hifumi, and haughty condescension from Celeste or Byakuya. At the very least, Kyoko had picked her own corner with an empty seat next to her and expected to remain undisturbed for the majority of the travel.

Of course, fate had a habit of making a mockery of Kyoko Kirigiri’s predictions.

* * *

  
Kyoko was busy maneuvering on the second pin of her trap-laden lock when none other than Sayaka Maizono herself sauntered down the aisle of the charter bus and inserted herself next to Kyoko, bag and all. 

Previously, she’d naturally been the center of attention- even amongst the prestigious ultimates, everyone else paled in comparison to the sheer girth of her fame. She even managed to have an estimated net worth that encroached on Byakuya’s- Although only slightly.

The males and females alike in the charter bus seemed enraptured by her evanescent beauty like a glimmer of stardust soon to wane away and slip out of your sight. The only individuals that seemed completely immune to her charms were Byakuya, Celeste, Sakura, and of course Kyoko. 

  
Leon was particularly besotted- And had been dishing out groan-worthy flirts and pick-up lines, much to the dismay of everyone involved. He prompted Celeste to remind him as politely as she could stomach that Sayaka was “Thoroughly and completely” out of his league, while Byakuya simply compared him to a baboon (Even remarking on how his hair could very easily be a monkey’s) and told him to shut up.

For her credit, she seemed to take what others would consider borderline harassment in stride- although it was only natural that one of the most famous young women in the country would have a tolerance for that sort of thing. Kyoko simply wrote her off as a narcissist whose ego thrived off gushing fans; Although she did notice subtle facial cues that showed how relieved Sayaka seemed when Leon abandoned her in favor of Junko, someone who he was no less likely to catch, but at least played along.

All of this made the decision for Sayaka to abandon the front of the bus, where people who were clearly interested in her, and who she’d have no trouble getting along agreeably with (Sans a few troublesome individuals) to sit next to Kyoko in the back of the bus rather mystifying for Kyoko.

Was she not satisfied with her throng of devotees, and was angered at the prospect that Kyoko didn’t care for her? That seemed most likely based on what Kyoko had seen, and yet- When she approached Kyoko, the only expression on her face was one of amused curiosity.

“Whatcha doing, Miss Kirigiri?” Sayaka chirped in a dulcet tone, sitting right next to Kyoko and leaning far into her personal space to look at the lock in her hands- Despite there being another seat in the row she could’ve sat at.

Kyoko closed her eyes, sucking in a breath and doing her best to flood her mind and drown the very present feeling of annoyance. She decided not to answer- Hoping that Sayaka would understand her current apathy for conversation and promptly leave.

Rather than leaving, Sayaka poked Kyoko in the cheek- A childish action quite unlike the public image of her as a dainty, matured girl.

“Does the concept of personal space mean nothing to you?” Kyoko deadpanned without sparing a glance to her impish accoster.

“Ah! The phantom queen speaks! I’m glad I didn’t need to resort to my more complex methods to get you talking, although it’s a shame my research has gone to waste.” Sayaka spoke with a playful banter- While her eyes flared with a prying gaze.

“You’re implying you did research on me before this event.” Kyoko said firmly with doubt painted into her words as she felt a pin bind in the lock with a satisfying click.

“Oh? You don’t believe me? What, you think just because I’m some big busy pop star that I don’t have time to do some research on my classmates….?” Sayaka enunciated every word carefully with a goading tune, causing just the slightest increase to the tension Kyoko was putting on the lock. “Trust me, Miss Kirigiri- I have more than enough time for you.”

Although Kyoko wasn’t facing Sayaka, she could see her feylike grin even in her periphery. “I find that statement highly suspect: I doubt you knew anything but my name and title before you stepped on this bus.”

Sayaka placed a hand over her mouth and chuckled coyly. “Ah, Kyoko- You still doubt me? What is it about me that makes me so untrustworthy… My profession? My face? The way I talk? Or maybe… You just treat everybody that way….?”

Kyoko stopped for a moment, finally acknowledging Sayaka in her mind with anything more than brevity. Her behavior was highly unusual- Besides targeting Kyoko for seemingly no reason, her speech was completely different from the fragments Kyoko had overheard from her earlier conversations. Rather than light and girly, this Sayaka was aggressive and manipulative, choosing every word like it was a weapon.

Kyoko concluded two new thoughts about Sayaka- She was not to be underestimated, and she wanted something from Kyoko.

“If you claim to know so much about me, you should know that I am an empirical individual. If you want this conversation to go anywhere, you’ll provide evidence.” Kyoko replied in a stoical fashion.

“Ah, but of course! What sort of fan would I be if I didn’t even know that- I’d certainly be aghast if any “Fan” of mine didn’t know me by my chipper and upbeat persona. But, alright- How about a few of your cases? Not anything just anyone could recite, of course.” Sayaka’s eyes lit up with a glee a real fan might show, yet twisted like it was passed through a funhouse mirror.

”I have to say, even though it wasn’t really in your jurisdiction, the findings you uncovered about the rampant fraud in the Amami family was really something. Or who could forget about when you linked a string of unsolved murder cases together and revealed the shadowy redhood assassins all in one fell swoop! Man, that had the press scrambling for months- But it’s weird how little your name was brought up, huh… I think the most tragic thing was definitely all the homicides you linked to the Kuzuryuu clan that will never get any closure or justice.” Sayaka practically gushed about Kyoko’s career to her- it was a foreign feeling she’d experienced every so often that definitely made her uncomfortable. After all, she didn’t do it for fame, prestige, or money. She did it for the truth, and purely the truth.

That being said, what Sayaka was doing was more of a parody than anything. It’s true that Kyoko thought she could detect some actual truthful enthusiasm in what Sayaka said- But it was all tinged in a clawing kind of ulterior motive, every word chosen carefully as she waited with a smirk for Kyoko’s response. 

“What do you want.” Kyoko decided that rather than letting Sayaka lead her along in the conversation like an owner tugging on its pet’s leash, she would jump straight to the heart of the issue at hand.

“Hehehe. Oh, Kyoko!” Sayaka spoke with a highly exaggerated dainty tone, before rapidly changing to a darker tone. “You say that with such suspicion- Like I’m going to ask for something ridiculous. What I want is simple, Kyoko-“ She leaned in, suddenly lowering her voice to just a whisper. “I just want to make you mine.”

“...” for the first time in the conversation, Kyoko was well and truly flummoxed.

“Excuse me?”

“What? Are you really that surprised?” Sayaka raised her eyebrows as she pulled back. “I did just get finished talking about your most famous cases like one of my obsessed fans might talk about my albums- And even if we both know I wasn’t fooling you with that one, it wasn’t all bluffing. I well and truly do admire you, Kyoko- Which is exactly why I mean everything I said, including that last bit.”

Kyoko shook her head. “If your goal is for me to believe you, confessing in a conversation you’ve riddled with attempts at manipulation isn’t the grandest strategy: besides, you must be aware how ridiculous this all sounds. World-class idols simply don’t randomly confess, especially to people they’ve just met- Not to mention all the possibilities of scandals and contracts.”

“True, but young women usually don’t build an extensive career of cracking the cases that left hardened professionals grasping at straws.”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere: especially with me.” Kyoko said, punctuated with another click as she slid a pin into place with her pick.

Sayaka rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and leaned back into her seat. “Of course I know that, Kyoko: all I’m trying to say is it’s perfectly reasonable for me to do something so unusual when you’re so unusual.”

“That hardly assuages any of my arguments or concerns- On the contrary, I feel as if I’m being gawked at like some rare species of bird.”

“Alright, I can see I’m not getting through to you- So I’ll get straight to the heart of it all. I don’t suppose you know how I managed to become an idol?”

“Judging by your industry and how quickly you rose to fame…” Kyoko bluntly began. “I’d imagine you used various unscrupulous methods, but mostly coercion and blackmail if I had to guess.”

“See?” Sayaka’s eyes lit up with a devilish gleam. “You already know me so well! -But really, even if I did do a few bad things here and there- And this will sound cliche- I got to where I am because I honestly, truly wanted it… It was my dream. And I wouldn’t let anything stand in my way.”

“I don’t see how this is germane with you being thoroughly enraptured with me in the slightest.”

“Ah, you see miss Kyoko- That’s where you’re wrong. I think it’s natural for people to dream and dare to grasp at the impossible: it’s the reason we stared at the night sky till we could launch ourselves into it, or daydreamed of flying with birds till we eventually did. In the same way that I dreamed of becoming an idol… To some, a Sisyphean task that only the tiniest percentage of girls who dared to dream could attain- Some people dare to dream about being with me. Just like each one of Zeus’s many trysts thought they would be the one for him despite all the evidence- Just like Echo trying and failing to be with Narcissus despite all the odds stacked against them.”

Sayaka gazed out into the distance with a hand over her heart and a glassy look in her eyes. “This may sound pretentious, but I know that I’m a person who can make her dreams come true, no matter how audacious. Most people have someone like me on that dream pedestal- I have you. The minefield of obstacles standing in my way matter not, for I shall clear them one at a time. Whether it be your stony facade, the threat of exposure or your negative predisposition towards me.”

Kyoko took her eyes off the lock to give Sayaka a thoroughly unamused stare. “It’s fortunate you’ve already brought up narcissus, for I can think of no better comparison for someone who thinks they can woo whomever they wish. Besides, if your intention was to trick me into requiting your feelings, have you not sabotaged yourself by revealing your intentions to me?”

Sayaka drew her lips into a thin line, and gave Kyoko what appeared to be a genuinely hurt look. “Really? The fact the thought crossed your mind that I’d be idiotic enough to try to do this under your nose is the most painful thing you’ve said, more than the icy barbs or the attacks on my character. If I acted, even I couldn’t keep this hidden from you for long- So why bother? The way I see it, by divulging everything and laying all my chips on the table at my earliest opportunity, I can immediately adopt a strategy that’s more effective.”

A thought crossed Kyoko’s mind as she cautiously tapped her pick on a pin. “You’re treating this like a game.”

Sayaka rested a finger on her chin with a perplexed expression. “I wouldn’t call it that, really- But I did choose you because I knew it wouldn’t be easy, and I refused to settle. I want someone my equal to be my partner- Someone brilliant, as dedicated as I am and beautiful too, of course.”

“Didn’t I already say flattery was useless?”

“It isn’t flattery if I’m just speaking my mind, Kirigiri dear. You’ll see. No matter how tightly locked up your heart is, I’ll find a way in- Just… Like…”

Without thinking, Kyoko slid the last pin into place and turned the lock, her preventive measures for the trap pins already in place.

“That.” Sayaka’s grin was almost inhuman as the sun cast her face in an angelic- Or perhaps demonic glow.

In the aftermath of Sayaka’s unexpected confession, Kyoko had been left unable to truly focus on her case files or lockpicking.

She’d quickly excused herself after all of that with a beaming smile and a layer of sinister hunger tucked underneath that Kyoko felt that any onlookers wouldn’t notice. She cited “The need to keep up appearances” as the reason, 

Kyoko had previously been subject to unwanted and unwarranted attention before, of course; Those wishing to keep her silenced about certain matters, or bribe her into manipulating her reports- Even flagrant attempts on her life from time to time (Which was the reason that another of Kyoko’s hobbies besides lockpicking happened to be handguns) But that was to be expected.

Far more troubling was when she actually received fan attention- Mostly through mail or email, but sometimes in person. Although none were as forceful or passionate as Sayaka, it was still annoying, especially when her actual business inquiries were stuffed between adolescent girls aspiring to be “Just like her”

Although this attention had initially been minimal, it suddenly spiked when a famous author (Who happened to be on this very bus, no less…) Began a book series with her as a very loose inspiration. (Kyoko herself had read snippets, and the liberties taken were absurd…) And once again after she had been labeled as the second ultimate detective.

Yet, this was different from any of that. For one, she was going to be living near her- For an entire summer, no less- and during an event where she was expected to maintain some communication with other participants. It wasn’t like she could reasonably inform anyone of her plight, either- considering the claim a worldwide pop sensation was obsessed and harassing her was laughable at best.

At the end of the day, she supposed it would be a minor annoyance at worst. The distraction from her studies would be troublesome, of course, but it wasn’t like she had any real cases to work on, anyways. Although Sayaka had a dedication far more potent than most Kyoko had seen- Even for something so trivial- she would simply have to admit defeat eventually, since the extent to which Kyoko had ever pondered romantic musings was when discussing its potential as a motive.

Still, despite her efforts to dismiss it, the conversation bubbled aimlessly within the broiling depths of her mind in spite of its meaninglessness. Just what real stake did Sayaka have in seducing Kyoko? For all of Sayaka’s explanations, Kyoko had not received a satisfying answer, and could not deduce one herself.

Just what reason would someone so well-off have to waste their time on something so frivolously tedious?

The question gnawed at Kyoko, provoking the swirling emptiness within-

Till she settled down into a tumultuous sleep plagued by dreams of goddesses cast in their image.

* * *

In a ballroom cast in the fragmented remains of a shadowed universe, split like drifting shards on a shattered mirror- Death and the night found one another for their danse macabre.

Death walked with an ethereal lightness to her steps, her billowing mass of lavender-white hair undulating on its own accord like a sheet in the wind or a ghostly shade. Her ballgown matched the gossamer shade of her boughs of hair, pale white the color of skin drained of life accented by bleached bone and skulls, with a cracked gravestone gray as a secondary color. Black roses were tucked in her tide of hair like they grew there as easily as any flower bed.

Night’s dark blue rivers of hair were dotted by her many starry children, as each strand moved with a peculiar sentience of its own. The planets, moons and suns dotted her pitch onyx dress, swirling listlessly in the cosmic streams of the Styx.

Wordlessly the two engaged in an eldritch dance known by no name and learned only in tiny splinters by mortals- A rhythm of motions like a war between two souls, endlessly and relentlessly vying for dominance whilst sparks of passion split from their embraces and showered the earth. 

As their bodies pressed together and lady night ignited a heat long doomed to stillness within death. Space and time, souls and selves molded and melded together as the dance spun on, and on and on-

Like the empty orborous wrapped into itself at the center of reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, lets get this out of the way immediately: Sayaka is the first character i've presented strictly different than their presentation in canon. I doubt anyone will get angry with me since the camp of Sayakers is rather small, and most who do enjoy the character usually tend to make equally drastic character revisions or assumptions like I have due to her limited screen time (A lot like fans of Mukuro, honestly- Although she got it worse. And trust me, we'll get to her eventually.) But i'm going to explain my reasoning here anyways, partially because I promised to in the newly revised summary but also because it's just a lot of fun to go through my thought process like this.
> 
> Sayaka ingame has a lot of mentions of a darker side of her personality, which is particularly emphasized at the end of trial 1 when she backstabs Makoto. Although its implied she regretted her actions (Hence 11037) I'd like to think that this, along with the mentions of her doing nasty things to achieve her dream and general status as a performer who needs to put up as a facade means that she's someone deeply committed to achieving her goals and willing to use manipulation to do so.
> 
> Her obsession with Kyoko is a little bit harder to justify, other than that I simply like the ship and liked this as a way to send it off and show the two grow closer. However, I think the idea of Sayaka choosing a goal or dream that seems impossible to reach and still somehow managing works well with her character and backstory, and there's nobody who is quite as hard to seduce as Kyoko (Unless you happen to be a certain lucky boy, that is) I also really enjoy the idea that while most people look at Sayaka like some sort of unreachable godess on a pedestal, Sayaka does the exact same. This isn't mentioned in the chapter, but Sayaka was also a big fan of detective novels and badass female protagonists as a kid... Which is probably part of the reason she does what she does.
> 
> Its worth mentioning that Sayaka's preppy and girly persona still exists and is probably the majority of what you'll see from her with anybody who isn't Kyoko (And later, possibly Makoto) She simply drops this in front of Kyoko- Partially because she figures Kyoko will figure it out soon anyways, but also to be up front with her about the sort of "Game" the two are playing from the very beginning.
> 
> I'll also talk about how Kodaka even handles CH1 victims and blackened, since the reason I even have to modify Sayaka so much is because of how little she gets as a result of her early death. This isn't a fault of bad writing, as its just a natural part of DR as a formula- Moreso, working around it shows how Kodaka improves working on DR games. In DR1 he has to simply settle for having fairly bland characters die and as such have a trial that isnt very impactful, but he actually "Cheats" in dr2. I say that because he uses Twogami as a way to make us care about a character without actually doing anything (By using one from a previous game) And Teruteru is in no way the blackened- Just a stand-in so Nagito doesn't have to die, as none of the events of the chapter would happen without him and most of the murder plan is also the result of his actions, and as such 2-1 manages to be a brilliant trial with literally the worst blackened in the series. Finally, the game that does Ch1 the best is V3. By killing the mystery character and giving him importance to the plot and dialogue later they preserve Rantaro as a character, and the Kaede bait and switch requires... No explanation. This trial is so good that both Kaede and Rantaro are S in my books despite both dying very early.
> 
> As for Kyoko, i'm pretty happy with my interpretation of her here, but I definitely feel like I could have done better. Writing for a pre-game, and more importantly pre-Naegi Kyoko is definitely different from how I wrote her in another, post-game fic (The Sleeping Dead) and I also feel like I wrote her better- More particularly the metaphors and imagery describing her mental state.
> 
> Moving on to Miaya... Ah, Miaya, Miaya. A lot of characters got screwed in Dr3, something which i'll go into more detail later in my up and coming Seiko chapter. But Miaya is particularly egregious, because despite having a design, talent and pretty cool quirks she quite literally doesn't appear at all for the sake of a twist. I've seen a total of... One fic that does her any amount of justice, which is Extra life, a Hinanami fanfic that only has her appear for a bit of screentime but still does her leagues better than... Well, not doing her at all. I didn't really get to explore my variant of Miaya here very much besides her just being a generally good therapist, although I do like how the back and forth between her and Kyoko turned out- But I hope i'm able to explore more of it later, especially since she has other ties to characters like Chiaki.


	4. Come Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hajime is not entirely convinced about the UTDP or his role in it- But some cheering up from some new and old friends will help him along as the group finally makes it to their destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All chapters probably wont come out at this regularity, although I had a lot of inspiration for this one!
> 
> As always, you can find the sprite sheets for Nikei online for reference.

Hajime Hinata had probably reached an all-time mental low.

Which is surprising, considering that today was the culmination of anticipation that had been bounding within him for months. Expectations of grandeur at being somebody special. It was like… The lead up to a holiday, a child waiting sleepless in bed for Christmas. 

It all started when he got the letter in the mail- So plain, so average in its white binding and yet earth-shattering in its contents. A veneer of blandness hiding royalty and vile beneath. 

As soon as a casual, everyday person heard about the ultimate initiative, they wondered- No, they hoped and maybe even believed that somehow they had some sort of part of themselves that had what it took. Hajime was no different- Actually, to a certain extent that desire gripped him more forcefully than others and clawed at his thoughts, always lurking for its chance to suddenly taint his mind.

He tried his hand at whatever he could, inevitably failing many times, but also invariably finding many things he never knew he would be good at, a few roses in a thorny thicket. Still, he doubted it was anything ultimate… He was hardly even noticeable. Yet another drop of water trickling through muddy gutters on its way to the sewer.

But there was always that chance. Something he overlooked, maybe? That dream that he’d see that insignia on a letter one day. Is it right, to hope so feverishly, when such cruelty hides behind that effort? Your fantasy brings you to heavenly highs, only for you to come crashing down to earthly lows. 

Despite everything, it actually happened. His dream came true, all the scenarios he repeated endlessly having some smidgen of truth to them. In that moment, of shock… Of realization… He felt whole. Lost in that space between moments where logic hasn’t quite dragged you back to reality. 

But things are never quite that simple, are they?

There wasn’t a reason. There wasn’t a title. He didn’t even get in through a lottery- He wasn’t even a lucky student. In the blank pure space of that letter, something warped and twisted seemed to mock him. 

Just a letter asking him to come. No reason given.

At first he thought it was maybe a mistake. A printer error? A human slipped up? The fledgling sprout of denial could hardly brace against the harsh winds of doubt.

So he asked the future foundation. And the answer wasn’t exactly what he had hoped for, but… In a sense, it was what he expected: and the last of his denial and hope finally withered away.

No reason given. They didn’t… They didn’t have anything to tell him. He was being asked to come… But context was everything, wasn’t it? In that white void on the letter, a Cheshire grin arranged itself from the invitation and laughed.

He felt angry. But… He also felt guilty. Those two colossal titans of emotions raged against one another, locked in brutal struggle but at the same moment constantly strengthening the other, making a hellscape around them. 

It’s not like he thought he necessarily had anything special about him… And many other people probably would kill for this chance, ultimate title or not. Fickle reflections of his fellow ultimate idolizers whispered to him… Why wouldn’t he be happy right now?

So why did he feel so disappointed? Why did he feel the urge to just… Let it slip away, and not even go? Time until his final decision was ever wasting, yet every battling thoughts within him forced him into inaction. 

In the end, even he wasn’t quite sure why he ended up on that bus. Was he scared there’d be consequences if he didn’t? Was he still desperate to prove that he could have a title on that letter? Did that guilt about what others would have done in his place motivate him? 

He couldn’t tell you. The only thing he could say for sure as he watched those verdant trees sprouting in incredible vibrancy blur past was that he felt resoundingly hollow.

But the Norns, in their ever-ineffable peculiarities, had other plans than for Hajime to steep in the moors of self-pity all the way from the parking lot to the UTDP.

As he sighed and smushed his face against the cold glass, he expected a long- And lonesome ride. After all, wouldn’t the ultimates congregate together?

Evidently not.

The rustle of fabric broke him out of his stupor as a girl shimmied down the aisle and shuffled beside him, although leaving the space between them unoccupied. Her face was mostly obscured by her cat hoodie- Except for a few locks of light pink hair and a Galaga hairpin that peeked out. Wordlessly, she slung her carry-on off her shoulder, rustling around in it before retrieving a small pouch of tools and promptly beginning to muck with the luxurious touch screen TV installed on the seat in front of her.

Hajime blinked in confusion, his yoke of self-depreciation cast off by the beckoning call of confusion. “What are you doing?”

She seemed absorbed in… Whatever it was she was doing, as she pressed past several menus- Clearly dissatisfied, enough so that she retrieved a screwdriver and began unscrewing the monitor from the seat. It took long enough for him to get a response that he considered asking again or simply leaving her to her own devices- Before she abruptly answered.

“A friend of mine was the one who worked on this particular model of tablet- Although it’s gone through a few revisions since she sent it off so the information I got from her isn’t entirely accurate. But what I do know is with a bit of modification I can get it to run a flash drive I brought with a lot of classic two-player games that I can play with my friend even though she’s in another bus.” She spoke clearly, yet softly- Barely audible above even the gentle murmur of the bus.

Sure enough, as the girl pressed a few buttons on the back of the screen and manipulated through a few menus and a developer console, she inputted the Konami code, slotted in her flash drive and was greeted by a list of games.

A slight bit of unease crept into Hajime’s voice. “Isn’t that a security issue, though? Having a backdoor like that.”

As the girl booted up an old-school side scroller, hooked up a controller and began playing at unnatural speeds, she once again paused for an unnatural amount of time. “Well, she is one of the leaders in cyber-security and her programs haven’t been cracked even once, so… I think it’s okay. Admittedly my only experience in programming is modding and a smidgen of game development here and there, but I’d trust her with… Well, just about anything.”

It was at this point that Hajime remembered that he was indeed speaking to one of the most prestigious teenagers in the world- and he consequently felt another wave of self-doubt sweep over him. However, more pressing on his mind was just how… Normal she had seemed, besides being a bit eccentric in her speech and actions. Maybe it was only because he’d blanked out and somehow forgotten something as important as being in the presence of an ultimate, but his first experience of having a conversation with one was notably less illuminating then he thought it’d be, and far more unusual.

It was as if he’d suddenly been transported into a bizarro reality where the people were strange fey and everything was just one grand cosmic adventure… Or joke.

He racked his brain to remember her talent in particular- But admittedly it seemed just out of reach in his mind. He chalked it up to not being able to get a good look at her face- or maybe that his mental image of her was just so different to meeting her in the flesh, but it was a bit embarrassing to not remember something he’d done a fair amount of research on.

Seemingly noticing his gaze over her, she leaned over and navigated through a few menus on his own tablet, before offering another controller- all without directly facing him. “Want to play?”

A tiny, sad speck of his mind said he wasn’t worthy to play, much less talk to this girl- Whoever she was. But luckily enough, it was easily enough shoved to the side by the prospect of enjoying a game he knew with someone he’d just met.

“Sure.”

Although Hajime thought he was pretty good at this particular title, he had to admit he was being well and thoroughly carried, not only by the woman beside him but by the mysterious other player in another bus. The sheer prowess she exhibited was remarkable- Fluid and skilled play like she were weaving a tapestry of inputs, even showing off a knowledge of exploits.

But she seemed to not acknowledge it, keeping the conversation to a minimum- Just sprinkling in muted words of encouragement or bits of advice. It was quaint… He felt an unusual kinship to this girl he’d just met, and another who he hadn’t even seen.

After dying and sitting back to better appreciate her play, it dawned on Hajime just exactly who he was playing with- And a slight lean to get an actual clear view of her face confirmed it.

Chiaki Nanami, the ultimate gamer. In hindsight it should have been obvious, but he’d been thoroughly caught up in the unusual, yet enjoyable circumstances that he had blanked out. 

To say she was famous would be an understatement. Everyone had seen her name- even if less people knew her face. Although everyone wasn’t interested in esports, the best player in the world would at least pass in front of someone’s retinas a few times, but she was more known by her alias- Wyrded.

It was one thing to be the top player in one game, but another to bounce from game to game like a ping-pong ball and excel at all of them like she had. Her wayward nature had prompted a bit of drama as teams desperately tried to hang onto her, but she inevitably always drifted away.

But at the same time, she approached her fame with an unusual seclusion that made her a bit of an enigma within the public eye. Refusing interviews, or when they were necessary, keeping her input as short and quiet as possible- Even her teammates usually didn’t say much about her due to her wishes.

Besides her oddball career in esports, she was lesser known as someone who commonly crushed the records on speedrun.com and worked on ambitious modding projects with an anonymous partner. 

And yet, here was this ethereal presence he’d almost pictured as something more than a mere person- And she was completely ordinary, besides the obvious unsurpassable skill and a few bizarre quirks. 

“Chiaki Nanami?” Hajime questioned, almost like he was doubting it himself.

For the first time, she turned and looked him in the eye. “Hey hey. I don’t suppose you’re going to ask me about my career, huh….” she said it like she was already resigned to being asked a question she didn’t want to answer.

Hajime surprised himself by realizing he didn’t even want to ask her those types of questions- Despite them being very present in his mind when he thought of her before this encounter.

“No, actually I was just wondering what you thought about all this- The Ultimate Talent Development Plan and all that. I’m feeling a bit like a fish out of water myself.”

“Oh.” A slight smile turned at the edge of her lips, a fragile and ephemeral thing. “That feeling’s sorta omnipresent for me, so it’s nothing new… At the very least, I can meet up with a few old friends I’ve collaborated with from time to time. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Miaya Gekkogahara or Chihiro Fujisaki…? Their talents aren’t exactly as recognizable as my own or some others…”

With Hajime’s frankly slightly obsessive research into ultimates and the criteria for being chosen as one, of course he’d at least vaguely heard of each participant. She was right in that programmer and therapist weren’t exactly as prestigious or garnered nearly as much acclaim as titles like musician or vocalist- ultimates that were constantly bombarded by a deluge of attention, whether positive or negative.

But by the very nature of being featured on the list of chosen ultimates one could expect at least some amount of inquiry. Hell, even Hajime, whose name wasn’t even usually included (And even when he was it was presumed as some sort of error since he had no title or history in the spotlight) Got the occasional email or twitter message, usually someone thoroughly confused why he was even on it, to which he had to awkwardly reply that he didn’t know either. (With no small amount of self pity sickly spreading as a result)

Plus, the two were cute girls- Which naturally their number of fans tenfold even if they knew nothing about their idol’s professions.

“Uhm, a little bit.” Hajime awkwardly got out, not wanting to admit the degree to which he’d researched the ultimates. “Programmer and psychologist, right? I can see how you’d know Chihiro, but Miaya’s a bit surprising. Well, it’s just a bit unusual in general that you have that sort of connections- Talent mingles together, I guess.”

“Ah, well…” Her eyes darkened slightly, like a layer of grime settling over her lustrous eyes. “She is my therapist, after all… I don’t think I could think of a better adolescent therapist, especially since I’ve tried so many others. You’d be surprised how much games, psychology and programming overlap into a sort of trifecta that supports itself…”

Hajime was intrigued, especially since games were one of the hobbies he was good but not excellent at, and he felt like psychology is something that just about everyone should have some investment in.

But more important than that was how transitioning into something Chiaki was passionate about had changed the conversation, from a rusty exchange from two people who were clearly antisocial in some regard awkwardly murmuring back and forth, to something far more fluid and enjoyable. Hajime could see it in her face- Like a star breaking free from its celestial prison.

“Really? So the three of you compliment one another, then. Working together to make each of your professions a more powerful gestalt than you would have been alone. Could… You give me some examples?”

“Oh, well- I wish I could be more useful than I am in our collaborations. Chihiro and Miaya have the knowledge to create things directly, but I’ve only really dabbled in game development a few times so all I can offer is my insight. Still, what we’ve done makes me happy that I can use my greatest passion to help other people. Art’s always been important to humanity… And games, as interactive art offer up a lot more possibilities both for the good and bad of influencing people. Miaya, Chihiro and I have done our best to create ideas for games that can heal or express new depths of human emotions, but… For all we try, it makes me really sad whenever somebody uses psychology and games together to trap people into soulless, addictive spirals that gouge you out of your time and money. At that point, it’s not really even a game anymore… Just a trap propped up loosely by mechanics and mental pitfalls. You’d be amazed at the number of people with gambling addictions or problems in their lives who have had everything ruined by a malicious program on the App Store masking itself in sheep’s clothing…” Although her voice was still soft and tender, it had rising waves of emotion behind it, now- Frothing and powerful tides contained within such a delicate vessel.

“Wow… That’s… I can only imagine how much good you’ve done already.” Although Hajime was happy to get a better glimpse into Chiaki, and learn something about her still related to her talent, but a little more personal… The talk of her exploits had ignited that all too familiar feeling of personal worthlessness that had been extinguished at the start of the conversation. It roared and raged, threatening to devour his mind in ash and heat once again… After all, what was he compared to someone who was so superbly skilled and passionate about their talent, and used it to benefit others? Just a normal, bland, perfectly average…

“Ha-ji-me~” Chiaki sang out in a quiet tune with a bittersweet smile on her face.

“W-Wait.” Hajime was shocked out of his self-musing as he realized something. “I never told you-“

Chiaki moved her hand on top of one of his and lightly drummed on the back of it. “You shouldn’t worry so much, you know? You don’t need a long list of heroic feats to change the world. After all, you can bet even all of us ultimates only exist because of a myriad of perfectly mundane, yet still amazing people who set us into motion. But-“ She tilted her head slightly and scrutinized Hajime’s face. “I am assuming a lot of things. And besides, helping you can’t be that easy, right? That’d just be anticlimactic. You can’t have fun or pride in your accomplishments without proper difficulty, right?”

Hajime’s mind spun wildly through a turbulent circle of emotions- Sadness, happiness and intrigue. But mostly confusion.

Yeah, a lot of confusion.

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it.” She offered a mellow smile that could de-petrify even the stoniest, most brittle hearts. “Just try and take a little bit of what I said to heart, all right? We’re all about to become our own protagonists of a crazy, mixed up story that’ll put even the most ineffable of fever dreams to shame.”

* * *

  
After that intriguing, confusing, and heartening conversation with the pink bundle of gamer girl softness, she refused to return to the subject of what exactly she was even talking about. They did end up continue playing with one another and overall enjoying the journey, discussing more normal topics like their hopes and expectations for the upcoming menagerie or shining talent and wacky personalities alike, or a discussion of their favorite moments from games.

This frankly pretty normal bit of social exchange helped Hajime forget for a while that he was going to be spending an entire summer with this generation’s artistic and scientific elites, away from his friends and family. Or, well- Most of his friends and family, as he was reminded when a familiar cajoling voice called out to him when he was exiting the bus.

“Hajime! How’d the showdown go with the ultimate gamer themselves?” Shouted out the cotton ball fluff-headed alien of a person who liked to be called Nagito Komeada.

* * *

  
Somehow, despite Hajime knowing Nagito before all of this, his mere inclusion into the UTDP managed to reduce its normality by several levels. The luckster truly embodied the term “Stranger than fiction”- He was more unusual than any wacky ultimate or unusual character in Fukawa’s novels.

The two had met over their shared interest- Naturally, the ultimates. But if Hajime was slightly obsessed… Well, Nagito broke the definition of obsessed and went past it by a mile.

Even initially when Hajime had found Nagito on an ultimate fan forum and coincidentally learned they lived near one another, it was easy to tell there was something… Strange about him. Maybe it was the fact that he did way more research than anyone else, or any hobbyist would reasonably do- including information that it was hard to imagine he’d be able to come by. Maybe it was the fact that he somehow typed in long paragraphs with impeccable grammar on an Internet forum. Or maybe, just maybe it was the fact that he seemed to always respond to comments or messages within seconds with no regard for the time of day.

In actuality, it was his bizarre pseudonym- BagelLover6

All that being said, he was strange but not unlikeable. His tendency to uplift others, offer helpful information and even break up arguments earned him prestige on the forum, and even moderator status which he declined- Stating he didn’t “Deserve it” (Even though Hajime didn’t really see anyone better suited for the job…)

After the two got in closer contact through discord, they managed to figure out their proximity by coincidence and decided to meet up every now and then. Even before Hajime discovered Nagito’s unique… “Talent”, the lucky boy had the unique other ability to either make Hajime’s day go much, much better… Or take a 180 directly into a dumpster.

A dumpster that, knowing Nagito, had a lottery ticket, considering that was the incident that caused Hajime to begin suspecting something was up with his cloud-haired friend’s ability to throw himself into danger and somehow always come out better off.

When the two were out eating, Nagito noticed a cat stuck in a tree- And naturally decided it was up to him to get it down (Hajime simply wanted to let someone else deal with it and finish his sandwich in peace….) Naturally, Nagito attempted to climb the tree and horribly failed, falling into a dumpster that happened to also be currently loaded off to go to the dump. 

Which resulted in a cartoonish chase as Hajime drove after the truck until he could finally free his thoroughly unconscious garbage boy. By sheer coincidence, a valid scratch lottery ticket was stuck to his body afterward- and although it was only for a few thousand dollars, the incident struck Hajime as thoroughly weird.

It only took a couple more of these “Coincidences” for Hajime to get truly suspicious. Crazy “Accidents” involving elevators, lightning strikes, raccoons, ceiling collapses, footlongs, boxes of rubber duckies and several gallons of industrial lubricant for Hajime to really get wind that something fishy was going on. And yet when he asked, Nagito just replied nonchalantly that he was “lucky” and that it was nothing special, despite clearly being unusual.

It felt like the guy was constantly living a twilight zone episode, and yet shrugged it all off like it was normal- leading to reality itself bumping up the weirdness to desperately try to get him to acknowledge it.

It suddenly made both the fact that orphanages and charities all around their city constantly got donations make a lot of sense- As well as why one of Japan’s bagel companies somehow was always leading the stock market.

So when Hajime learned about the “Ultimate Lucky Student” Title and how three particularly fortune-favored individuals would be chosen, he had not a single doubt in his mind that Nagito would somehow wrangle his way into receiving an invitation. And sure enough he did, although he came rather close to not accepting it at all.

Surprisingly enough Hajime had ended up being one of the reasons Nagito did accept despite claiming he wasn’t worthy, as when Hajime received his own rather disappointing invitation Nagito seemed to take it as the future foundation somehow finding out about a brilliant talent even Hajime didn’t know about. Despite this notion being ridiculous, he seemed thoroughly convinced and Hajime at the very least told his friend that if he was going, Nagito was coming along with him.

Which led to the current state of affairs, and Hajime both being happy to see an old friend and worried what sort of impression he’d make on his new friend.

* * *

  
“I got demolished, but that’s to be expected.” Chiaki’s face was fixated on her switch- But she glanced up briefly to look over Nagito.

“Don’t be such a downer, Hajime- You were improving even in that short timespan, and that’s all that matters.” She encouraged in a soothing, quiet tone.

“Ah, well it makes sense for the Ultimate Gamer to be pretty invested in furthering other people’s appreciation for her passion.” Said Nagito with a wide grin and a strange twinkle in his eyes. “What’d ya think, Chiaki? Is he good enough to be your apprentice?”

“...Apprentice?” She seemed confused, which besides being adorable wasn’t surprising considering half of what came out of Nagito’s mouth seemed like his head was as up in the clouds as his hairstyle. “Well… Maybe.” She posed. “But I’ve never really thought about anything weird like that.”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Nagito tapped his head before moving next to Hajime and throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Hajime over here has a mystery talent.”

Hajime sighed, awkwardly pulling Nagito’s lanky arm off him and shooting a look of slight vitriol (He didn’t want Chiaki to know he was talentless… At least, not yet) “I wouldn’t call it that- They just left the paper blank. If I do have some sort of talent I don’t know about, I’d have preferred if they’d just told me up front.”

“What?” Nagito gasped with a look of exaggerated surprise. “Well, I think it’s exciting- kind of like those prizes you get in cereal boxes. Whatever it is, it has to be better than something as worthless and useless as luck, anyways.” He finished as he slipped into the familiar habit of staring at his hand as if it were rotting.

“You’re comparing my talent to crappy prizes in cereal boxes.” Hajime leveled an unamused stare in Nagito’s direction, which he seemed to ignore or not notice at all.

“Sure am!” He replied enthusiastically, eliciting an exasperated groan from Hajime.

Meanwhile, Chiaki’s mind had seemed to be working overtime- As she got somewhat of a troubling, fascinated gleam in her eye like a little kid with a new toy for them to destroy.

“Um… Chiaki?” Hajime asked nervously. “What’re you thinking of…?”

“So! So!” For the first time Chiaki raised her voice, getting maybe just a bit too far into Hajime’s coveted personal space. “You’re saying you have something, amazing… Special, that you haven’t figured out yet?”

Hajime awkwardly took a step backward. “Well, it’s always been Nagito’s idea, not mine…”

Chiaki’s mouth curved into an almost wicked smile. “Alright… Alright! That just means I have to find exactly what you’re good at… Let's start with games, alright? We’ve only done platformers so far, but who knows what else you could be good at… Maybe even better than me?”

“That doesn’t seem possible.” Hajime got out slowly while Nagito’s mouth was stretched into a wide grin.

“Seems like she’s treating this like a game, Hajime. You know what that means-“ Nagito winked. “She’s not going to stop until she wins. Or in this case, figures out your talent.”

Hajime scoffed. “Like that'll ever happen.” In response, Chiaki pouted in a mind-meltingly cute fashion that could move mountains and move mortals alike.

Nagito gave out a breezy, yet slightly strained laugh. “Seems like we found something even more powerful than her skill at games- I don’t think you can win this one, now that you’ve got an ultimate trying to figure out your talent.”

“Two, actually.” Hajime pointed out. “You count too, you know.”

“Ah, we both know I don’t.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “I’m not getting into an argument with you about this again.” Breaking his eyes off his two companions, he decided to take stock of his surroundings instead of bicker pointlessly.

Unsurprisingly for an organization backed by the United Nations, the Future Foundation’s stage for the Ultimate Talent Development Plan was breathtaking, massive- And must have been monstrously expensive.

The various buses of each ultimate group were parked on the crest of a massive rocky peninsula on which the campus lay. Behind them was the dirt road leading up to it, and behind that a stretch of forest that seemed to span out till it painted the horizon. The area was elevated so that the road was quite steep, but it offered an absolutely picturesque view of the shimmering, weaving waves of blue water that crept out in every direction as far as the eye could see.

What immediately caught the eye in the area was the central plaza, park and gardens, featuring immaculate stonework, superbly trimmed foliage and palettes of perfectly chosen floral accents. It utilized elevation in a unique way- Often using steps and elevated platforms to create waterfalls or bases for vertical flora like ivy. It also contained countless statues and fountains of classical gods, goddesses, heroes and monsters from various mythologies or stories, as well as sections of trees that gave the appearance of secluded grottos.

In the center of the entire thing was a giant statue seemingly depicting Atlas holding up the entire world- A giant marble sphere made glossy by the water streaming down it.

In a circular ring around the gardens were the buildings intended for the ultimates themselves- there were at least a dozen of them, and they were each both sprawling, and fantastically designed to fit the groups living within. Some were obvious- Like a building designed more like a modern art piece than a normal structure, incorporating crazy architectural flairs Hajime had rarely seen before, slathered in paint, words and murals (Clearly an abode for artists) or one that resembled a Greek amphitheater mixed with a modern training complex. Others, not so much.

The various groups of ultimately endowed individuals milled about, congregating towards a massive pavilion featuring seating and food, along with the student leads of the project beginning to set things up for what would probably be a grand opening ceremony.

It was at this point it struck Hajime simply how truly strange his situation was. It had occurred to him before- But in this moment, it truly dawned on him. The individuals sprawling before him seemed less like actual human beings- And more like strange, alien beings, fey and gods celebrating and feasting till time itself wore out.

He felt strange. Out of place. Yet… Oddly entranced. Drawn into it all, as Chiaki pulled on his hand and they rushed into the crowd of wacky characters.

As they wandered toward the groups (Chiaki seemed to be heading towards Miaya and Chihiro, who were in turn flustered around Kokoro) Hajime was suddenly stopped by a dashing young man.

A man none other than Nikei Yomiuri- The ultimate journalist himself. Done up in fairly usual, if old-fashioned attire for a reporter, his long black hair obscuring his left eye. His pen and notepad at his side, with a cheery star-lit smile he seemed ready to conduct an interview, until…

Well, in Hajime’s limited personal experience with Chiaki, the last thing he’d call her is dangerous- Unlike you were talking about virtually. However, in that single moment Chiaki managed to summon a pout with so much concentrated disdain that she not only managed to make Nikei shrink backwards considerably, but also Hajime- Who wasn’t even the intended recipient of said pout.

Hajime had better knowledge of Nikei than most ultimates, and that was simply because he was an avid consumer of reports on ultimates- Which were of course, done by Nikei. Go figure. From what he knew, the guy was a bit insensitive and happy-go-lucky, and a bit too.. aggressive in pursuing stories, to the point of aggravation. Considering the Chiaki was someone who avoided interviews at all costs, and he was the main press lead on the UTDP, well…

“M-miss Nanami! I didn’t see you there!” Nikei held up shaky hands as if a high-powered superweapon were leveled at him. “Trust me, I’m not here to accost you… Just get an interview from your friend there!” 

Chiaki seemed unconvinced, but relented slightly regardless. “Fine… But if you bother him, you know the consequences, right?” 

Nikei nodded as if his life depended on it. “Yes ma’am.”

Chiaki squinted at him, before moving away towards her friends- Giving an “I see you motion” while she left Hajime alone with the reporter. Or, at least as lone as one can be below a crowded, massive pavilion.

Nikei seemed visibly relieved, wiping a bead of sweat off his brow before retrieving his notepad again. “The things I do for news…” He mumbled to himself.

Hajime raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly was she threatening? I can’t imagine it’d be anything conventionally injuring.”

“With all due respect…” Nikei began with trepidation, “I do mind. Although… You’re right that it’s not a threat in any conventional way. Ahem.” He straightened his back, regaining his positive, professional attitude. “Regardless, we have an interview to conduct, Mr. Hinata! And I must say I’m particularly interested in your answers.”

Hajime replied with a sigh. “Do you give that spiel to everyone you come across? Because listen, I know I’m nothing special. Actually, I’m probably the least special person under this pavilion! If you’re just interviewing me to make sure you get everyone- Trust me, you’re wasting your time. You could probably just mark down something particularly un-noteworthy and people would believe it anyways.”

“Ah, Hajime, Hajime…” Nikei shook his head as Prometheus’ spark of inspiration blazed to life in his visible eye. “You misinterpret my goals and what I wish to glean from these interactions- But more importantly, you misinterpret the goals and yearnings of the audience I write for. True, you are a normality amongst ultimates. But on the other hand… You are a normality amongst ultimates!” 

Hajime stared incredulously. “I don’t see where you’re going with this.”

“Consider it this way, then. True, in normal life you are rather mundane, forgettable and in no way remarkable. The ultimates shine forth as shining gems amongst the rough.” Hajime was beginning to see why Chiaki hated this guy.

“But!” He continued, pointing his own for emphasis. “Although it may seem disparaging and quite frankly like an insult for you to be compared to these ultimates by being placed among them for no reason- in reality, this situation readies the spotlight onto you, instead!”

“Do you do a song and dance like this to everyone you meet?” Hajime spurned unapologetically.

“Erm, no.” He awkwardly admitted, before re-donning his eccentric persona and continuing his explanation. “There are many ultimates here, Hajime. Dozens upon dozens: but there is only one person without a talent. And that is you!”

“So… You’re putting me under a microscope because I’m a black sheep.”

“Must you make everything I say so dour?” Nikei pouted, although it was obviously much less powerful or cute than Chiaki’s. “True, I want to know more about you because you’re different- and as such, intriguing. Yet, to use your own example against you- Although the black sheep is different, that in no way makes him inferior to white sheep. Rather, the black sheep’s so called mark of outcast draws him into the limelight- Garnering him one of the most precious Human Resources… Attention.

“Attention is exchanged and bartered for rapidly in modern society, and particularly within my field. By becoming a shred of normality in a sea of chaos and excellence, you have garnered attention away from those who would have gorged on it. Is that not worth looking at? Now… If I were to leave it at that, you would surely say I’m still making light of you…”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” Hajime said tactlessly. “Although I have to say that with so much talking, you’re finally actually getting somewhere.

“But the point is I’m not leaving it at that, and to convince you I’m not doing all of this to ridicule you in any way I’ll offer my own speculation on the riddle I bet is on your mind, your friend’s mind, my own mind and any of my reader’s minds… Why exactly were you chosen? The most obvious answer of an Everyman is cut due to the existence of Ultimate Lucky students, and although I’d like to springboard off of theories that you have some sort of hidden talent, I reject that idea in part.”

“No, I’d like to ask you, what exactly constitutes an ultimate?”

“Excellence, I guess…” Hajime offhandedly answered.

“Yes, excellence! But more specifically, specialization. If you care to look, every ultimate is very specialized, sometimes to the most minute of arts and sciences. By doing this, their accomplishments become more pronounced… And thus more recognized. And yet, is someone equally, but less talented in many areas not also deserving of credit? This is the flaw of how we distribute attention… A flaw I think must be partly addressed with you. You see, I’d like to believe you are the ultimate generalist. Someone who is above average at everything… But not truly exceptional at anything. In a way, this also makes you the ultimate gestalt, which has a bit more of a ring to it.”

“Congratulations, you’ve made me even more depressed.”

Nikei groaned in frustration. “Look, it’s hard for me to speak for ultimates because quite frankly I don’t really see myself as one either, but what I do know is that the world needs specialists and generalists, even if one gets disproportionately more press than the other. Being a generalist means you’re more versatile, adaptable- And also less vulnerable to close-mindedness and ignorance. Your variety of talents also makes it easier to relate and interact with others. In a sense, you might just be someone who can unite the ultimates.”

“And now… You’re making me seem like ultimate Jesus.”

“Everyone gets a Christ allegory eventually, Hajime. It was only a matter of time. But in all seriousness, this all is just some speculative rambling of mine. Some speculative rambling that I’d love if you would let me indulge… By interviewing you?” Nikei wiggled his eyebrows.

“Alright, you know what?” Hajime smiled. “Fine. You can have your damn interview. But on one condition.”

“Hm?”

“What’d you mean by “Not thinking of yourself as an ultimate”? “

“Oh, that.” Nikei mused to himself for a moment. “Well, it’s a bit hard to explain, since I actually have the title and all… And I’m specialized, like I was saying. But what I mean by that is I don’t feel like one… In the way that being an ultimate is something that garners attention. A reporter is a thankless job- After all, nobody interviews the interviewers, right? Naturally the one redirecting the flow of attention can’t redirect it on themselves, as that’d just be narcissistic and stupid. But honestly, after writing for the thousandth time about how fame rots the mind, I’m a bit glad I get to specialize so much in something I love without getting much attention myself. It’s why I, uh…” Nikei cast his gaze toward the ground.

“Could you say sorry to Chiaki in my stead? I got a bit ahead of myself, like I do a lot, and it is a bit hypocritical talking about wanting to stay out of the spotlight and then forcing someone else into it. It’s just that I’ve come to learn that along with death and taxes, media is a certainty in this world- And your story will get out there whether you were the one that told it or not. I just really want to make sure I get stories like hers right, so they don’t end up in the wrong hands and invoking the dark sides of journalism.”

Hajime’s smile stretched into something of a grin. “You do have a way with words, you know that? I’ve gone from hating you to really wanting to be buddies with you. So yeah, I’ll definitely relay that message… And thanks, for somehow being another ultimate to remind me that there’s definitely something ultimate about my completely normal self."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn't take as much inspiration from me as previous ones (Like when I modified Sayaka's character a fair amount) But it was very fun to have Chiaki and Nikei talk about how much they loved their professions as ultimates, although for different reasons. I love the idea that Chiaki can threaten people, although not in the typical way... And Nikei is always great as a happy-go-lucky idiot who gets himself into trouble.
> 
> One of my favorite things to do in this fic is think of prior relationships between characters, like Miaya, Chihiro and Chiaki or Hajime and Nagito. It's a great deal of fun and lets me cook up some unique relationships. The one between our three girls (Sans Chihiro, but for the moment that isn't revealed) is obviously based on how all three are involved in DR2's plot and the neo world program, with Chiaki as the AI and Miaya and Chihiro as the programmers. Chiaki even refers to Chihiro as a sibling, so I wanted to keep the relationship even with a flesh-and-blood Chiaki... Even if the two technically don't even interact in this chapter.
> 
> Speaking of Chiaki, Chiaki is... Well, weird. She's a character who is in a unique position in that I think she is unarguably poorly written and yet still trends near the top of most people's tierlists, partially because of moe factor but for a lot of other reasons as well. In comparison to her character, her design and general personality is rock-solid... It's simply a shame that it wasn't explored more and her flaws expanded upon. DR3 at least tries to resolve this, but with how easily she seems to overcome her antisocial tendencies it seems very... Rushed, much like everything in Dr3, although this isn't my time to complain about DR3. That will come later.
> 
> Writing pre-reveal Nagito is pretty fun, and I like writing a Hajime who is more jaded after spending more time with him but still grows to love and care about the guy... Which will make the reveal of his darker personality all the more despairing. Even if its only touched on briefly in this chapter, I really love how luck works in the DR universe- Even if its only really thoroughly explained and explored with Nagito, its actually so deep despite not being very integral to the plot that one can make entire video essays on it (Which has already been done, actually)
> 
> The song for this chapter is "Come along" by Cosmo Shelldrake. It's a whimsy, slightly unnerving song that matches Hajime's hesitance at being involved in the equally whimsical ultimates well, especially with his comparisons to them being fey or gods.
> 
> Chapter meme name: Doomer Hajime


	5. Dig your own hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seiko does her best to chase after her best friend- Mikan Tsumiki, before she gets herself into her usual trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a bit longer than usual, but enjoy! I hope you enjoy my rendition of Seiko as much as I enjoyed writing it, and as always I appreciate kudos and absolutely adore comments- They make me want to keep writing, and I also appreciate criticism, especially on characters.

Seiko Kimura was anxious about her involvement in the UTDP, to say the least. She never had any thoughts of declining, but as the deadline approached an inescapable anxious dread chased her like a featureless boogeyman. 

The sheer volume of people she would be exposed to- Energetic, needy people who would doubtless ask impossible things of her and her talent- was overwhelming. People she was expected to interact with and cooperate with… Even the mere thought of it all sent jolts or maddening panic everywhere that short-circuited her thought process.

And the worst part of it- Always, was that the logical part of her mind knew, and always insistently reminded her that those thoughts were irrational. Because of course, wondering and thinking ceaselessly that someone is going to ask something you can’t do, or be disappointed or angered at your actions is pointless, and those things usually don’t happen regardless.

It was for this very reason that Seiko loathed to bring up her anxiety, because people would go out of her way to remind her of how ridiculous her fears were… As if that would fix anything! Nobody understood that she was constantly beating that exact same mantra into her own head, and that logic ironically only provoked even more dread and self-loathing. Even worse was the fact that she knew they were always doing it to try to help… And yet she always had to be ungrateful and shove people away because of how much the reminder of her own critical vulnerabilities hurt.

Her anxiety was the reason she’d even invested so heavily into pharmaceuticals in the first place… As a naive child, she believed in a miracle panacea that could magically relieve her of all of the obsessively worrying thoughts she was plagued by… Until reality called and she learned that the best she could do was alleviate it.

Still, she went to the UTDP. Partially because she worried about the perception of possibly being the only one to refuse… But more importantly because she needed to be there for her best friend.

Mikan Tsumiki. For every issue that Seiko had, the ultimate nurse definitely had it worse- a fact that saddened Seiko deeply, since Mikan could be one of the most thoughtful, caring and brilliant people she’d ever known… When she could work past her many, many scars on her psyche and odd habits as a result of them. She was brave enough to work directly with the sick and injured, a job that despite its similarities to hers Seiko could never even dream of doing.

The unfortunate bit about their friendship was that Seiko understood that just like her own frequent bouts of worrying about people’s responses to her actions or requests for unreasonable things, Mikan’s ever-insistent self-depreciation was also stubborn and sticky on her conscience. It was disparaging, knowing that even after she said, time after time after time that Mikan was worth something, and meant the world to her… She would still revert to her old punching-bag self due to the steadfast grip those negative emotions had on her soul. 

It inspired a very different kind of anxiety within Seiko… Worries that someone would come along and wreck such a beautiful flower of a person further, or manipulate her to their whims. It’s why, no matter how useless Seiko might’ve felt her compliments and statements of Mikan’s immense worth were, she was completely committed to keep reminding her… Till Mikan realized it for herself.

And just as much as Seiko understood that she needed someone to support and care for her, she also knew Mikan needed the same in spades. The two had a… Symbiotic relationship of sorts, supplying the care and relief the other desperately needed, although quite never enough.

Besides, who knows what kinds of trouble such a klutz like Mikan would get into surrounded by the world’s most influential- And potentially dangerous young adults? Seiko absolutely refused to let anything that might potentially happen to Mikan weigh on her conscience.

So that’s why when the bus finally stopped, Seiko was the first one off, leaving even one of her other friends, Ruruko in the dust- Knowing that every moment was another possibility of Mikan getting herself wrapped into something she couldn’t handle.

* * *

  
It didn’t take long for Seiko to realize the folly of her actions, running headlong into the throngs of ultimates under the pavilion in search of her friend- running headlong into one of the greatest causes of her anxiety, crowds.

The faces staring, eyes flicking everywhere… The overlap of voices as they merged together into a vile, loud concoction. She was in a strange place, with celebrities, world-class athletes and even criminals! As people talked, murmured, greeted and recognized her, something dreadful spun in her heart.

The tides of loud and eccentric individuals crashed against her like turbulent waves, shearing away at her quickly. Everything was closing in, the water was rising… She was drowning, drowning!

A thought somehow gasped for air under the crushing weight of an ocean of stimuli: Seiko was having a panic attack.

Breaths were caught in her throat, not quite able to work past the water that was now over her head. Her eyes flicked around erratically, she trembled against the current wracking her…

In the midst of the debilitating storm, someone wrapped a comforting, warm arm around her and led her away from the overdose of people and ideas, to a quiet and idyllic corner of the gardens. The water drained- Slowly, gently, till she was still in a state of fight-or-flight heightened awareness, but enough to get her bearings about her. 

Swallowing her spit, she glanced over her companion. She was a young adult, unsurprisingly- Probably the same age or younger than Seiko, although arguably much more good-looking, at least in Seiko’s eyes.

Rouge-colored hair, it’s vibrant pink locks tied to one side to expose her youthful face and opal eyes. She wore a fairly exposing blue dress that left her chest open, as well as fishnet stockings and blue heels. A fur scarf snaked around her neck, and expensive looking bangles were on her left wrist- Overall, she looked like the sort of classy person who would be posh and “Higher-than-thou” but the welcoming smile like a summer breeze helped to dissuade that notion.

Behind her was another, notably more stoic and mysterious girl, whose personal canvas was painted with the grays and whites like an enveloping fog. Rather than anything like an eccentric dress or outfit that clearly expressed her talent like most other ultimates, she had a rather plain sailor uniform- Which matched her gray tide of hair tied into a very long ponytail. Her expression was searching and curious, but also unnaturally inexpressive.

Seiko’s mind worked faster than it probably should have in an attempt to explain her actions. “I- Uhm, I don’t… What I’m trying to say is… Please-“

The pink-haired woman smiled and spoke in a slightly reassuring tone. “It’s fine: take your time. And I assure you, I’m not bothered in the slightest by helping you out.”

As Seiko sucked in a few breaths and calmed herself, the misty gray girl regarded her with a slightly unusual curious scrutiny. “I’m… Sorry for having to waste your time like that, even if you say you don’t mind it. But for what it’s worth… Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s Yoruko Kabuya- Ultimate hostess, by the way.” She grinned. “I take a lot of pride in my job, you know? And I’m not really doing it unless everyone is comfortable. Trust me, I totally understand what’s happening to you. Haven’t experienced it myself, but… I’ve dealt with enough of them through my work to recognize the signs and help to work through the symptoms. ...You’d be shocked the number of so-called “Friends” drag people into situations that they really, really don’t want to be in at parties.” She said with a slightly annoyed look.

“Even so, it was me who dragged myself into that situation…” Seiko admitted.

“Yeah, that happens a fair bit too- But it makes me a lot less annoyed since it’s a lot easier to understand someone doing something that puts themselves into a bad place as compared to being insensitive and forcing others into it. It’s a difference between forgetting or ignoring your own limits, or just not listening to the people you say you care about. I get the feeling you both listen and care about the people close to you.”

Seiko suddenly grew a little bit conscious, glad her mask was hiding her face- Any mention of someone saying they could read her, no matter how positive always gave her a little bit of the heebie-jeebies. “It’s pretty early to make that assumption.”

“Well, I guess I’m just the type of person to try and get a read about someone pretty early, I guess- Call it a flaw of you will.” She lackadaisically answered. “You don’t mind sitting with us for a bit, right? Oh, this is Sora, by the way.” She gestured over to her companion.”You looked like you had something pretty important to get to, but I get the feeling you probably need some time to gather your thoughts- And the opening announcements are about to start, anyways.”

“Ah, y-yeah, sure.” Seiko awkwardly stammered, still thoroughly uncomfortable but not wanting to decline. “It’s Seiko Kimura, by the way. Ultimate Pharmacist.”

“Oh! A pharmacist, huh.” Yoruko nodded. “Yeah, I think I saw your name in a few places- Besides the obvious list of ultimates, anyway. Can’t say I know much about what “Pharmacist” entails besides using chemicals to help people- Never been too much into science. But I do have to say that the drug you made that reduces the intensity of hangovers is particularly useful for a lot of the people I work with- Not for me, though. Most people are surprised to hear that I don’t drink.”

“Oh, that drug- In all honesty, I had more pressing projects at the time, but unfortunately sometimes the only choice is to choose the option with the most money behind it.”

“Well, speaking of medicine, my friend over here-“ Yoruko gestured to Sora. “Has a serious case of amnesia. I’m not daft enough to suggest you have an easy way to cure it, but….”

“Talking about me without my consent, I see.” Sora finally implemented herself into the conversation, voice rigid yet honest. It was a bit hard to tell if she was actually upset or was just joking around, honestly.

Seiko blinked. “I know quite a bit about psychology, but there’s… Probably better candidates for your questions here. I’ll um… Try my best, though…” She trailed off into silence as that all-too familiar bundle of tied nerves worked its way into her head. “Anterograde or retrograde?”

Yoruko looked dumbfounded, while Sora just rolled her eyes. “I can’t remember anything?”

“Anything?” Seiko’s eyes grew wide. “That’s… Okay you two, or… I guess just Yoruko. Look, amnesia doesn’t work like how you think it does. You can’t just magic away memories and then expect them to come back… At all. It’s like permanently deleting something off your computer and trying to dig it back up afterwards.”

While Yoruko looked concerned, Sora seemed oddly blasé. “Huh. That’s unfortunate.” She said without inflection- Seiko thought that might’ve been the biggest understatement she’d heard in a while.

Seiko looked over the mystery woman while biting her lip, although the nervous habit was luckily hidden by her mask. “Well, you seem to… Have all of your faculties together, at least.”

“You’re saying I’m not stupid.”

“Yes… Um, something like that.” Seiko sputtered, caught off guard by Sora’s blunt response. “As far as I can tell, things like language and basic knowledge are still very much alive and well. Yoruko, am I right about that?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Yoruko responded. “Nothing out of the ordinary there, besides what I’ve talked about.”

“That… Is very strange.” Seiko murmured to herself. “Almost artificial. It makes some degree of sense since concepts like language and some skills are stored differently, but usually you’d be seeing other side-effects of trauma, especially in cases this severe. But, like I said.. I’m not a psychologist, even if I do have experience- Especially in regards to things like neurotransmitters. Best I’ve ever done is substances that help prevent memory loss or increase attention, as actually recovering memories is practically impossible…”

“Seiko, it’s fine.” Said Sora, completely unprompted.

“Huh?”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine, clearly.” Sora gestured to herself nonchalantly. “There’s no reason to work yourself up over something like this.”

“But, your memories-“

“Aren’t coming back. Like you said. “ Sora shrugged. “I think it’s probably better that way, since the person I was before is probably different than who I am now. I am a bit curious who I was, but that’s a whole other thing. It’s more important to me that a new friend I’ve met enjoys themselves rather than being busy in a futile attempt to help.”

Seiko began chewing on her lip again. “If… You say so. But just… One more thing, okay? You might be able to find a hint- To who you were, that is. Memory isn’t just memory, it’s a collection of biological processes that interlock and weave together like a vibrant tapestry. Even if you somehow had a machine that removed memory, it’d be impossible to remove everything… Because, um… Muscle memory exists. For someone like an ultimate, something relating to your talent might seem very strangely natural due to lingering muscle memory, and…”

“Seiko.” Sora interrupted.

“Right. Right.” Seiko stared down at her gloved hands. “And uh… Thanks, again. For helping me with my panic attack and stopping me from going overboard.”

After a few moments of silence, Yoruko elbowed Sora whispering “This is where you say “You’re welcome, Or it was no problem!”

“I thought that was implied.”

“It’s just good manners!”

“That’s not a very compelling reason.”

Yoruko huffed. “As much as your attitude sometimes irks me, I have to admit it gets results- I never would have butted in on her explanation like that. Guess sometimes it pays to be rude.”

“Things like social norms shouldn’t matter when it comes down to helping people.” Sora stated simply, before turning her attention to the pavilion, which was a fair distance away- And the huge TV screen at a stage near the back. “Looks like it’s starting.” Sure enough, the UTDP logo flashed on screen for a bit and the raucous crowds immediately quieted down a bit.

“Ahem. Testing, testing- One two three. One two- Are we good? Alllll right! Let’s get this show on the road, then!”

The voice being broadcast across the gardens was shrill and animatronic, and somehow even after only a moment of hearing it Seiko grew sick of it and felt as if it was mocking her. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of why someone would willingly make such a grating artificial voice...

Sora seemed to agree. “I’ve barely heard it at all and I already want to punch it.”

“Usually I think you speak your mind a little too often, Sora, but I can’t help but agree here…” Added Yoruko.

The screen faded out from the logo, replaced by a live feed from the stage- Where a strange and malicious looking dual-colored bear had leaped up to from seemingly nowhere with a permanent demented grin. 

“Gooood morning ladies and gentlemen, and those quite not ladies or gentlemen in either regard, and I welcome you all to the Ultimate Talent Development Plan! Now, you may be wondering why I’m here, lovely monochromatic ursine that I am! And I do admit I usually don’t partake in such… Fanciful events such as these. But the sake of these circumstances demands my attention, as I am practically required to anything related to you lot.”

“Why does it feel like everything he’s saying is doublespeak…?” Seiko asked to no one in particular.

“Because it is.” Said Sora. “Seems like he’s talking to someone else as well as us.

“As for the questions of why I exactly am the one telling you these things and not someone more qualified for the job- Perhaps someone from the future foundation, or a student lead? Well, besides the obvious answers of my undeniable splendor, you must remember that you chuckle nuts are put into isolation, here! No contact with other humans besides ultimates. And naturally… I don’t apply. Cuz i’m a bear!”

“Hey, Sora… You think when he says “No contact besides ultimates” that confirms you’re one, too? I mean, we don’t have any confirmation on that.” Yoruko absentmindedly mused.

“Maybe.” Sora didn’t seem completely convinced. “Or he’s pulling things out of his ass. He seems to do that a lot.”

“Ultimate Amnesiac, maybe?” Sora stared blankly at Yoruko’s joke.

“So… Yadda yadda, work together and build hope… Bleh. You guys know the drill, after all- It almost feels like we’ve done this before, doesn’t it? But here, have your Chekhov’s student handbooks, this time in trendy watch form! Go ahead and check your pockets- And don’t worry about my inexplicable ability to place things in them… Surely I won’t use it for nefarious means, right?”

Seiko checked her pockets, and… Sure enough, and rather confusingly, there was a small wristband touchscreen device. Upon booting it up, she was greeted by a small pixelated version of herself, along with her name and title, with a small icon for what looked like a circuit board next to it. Underneath, it prompted her to either activate it through fingerprints or by saying “Open handbook” out loud through voice activation. 

Slight unease at the prospect of the future foundation having both her fingerprints and samples of her voice aside, Seiko cleared her throat and spoke “Open Handbook” which prompted an animation of the screen swirling down into a white liquid as it transitioned to the home screen.

>Map  
>Student Information  
>Messaging  
>Balance  
>Challenges  
>Perk

They all seemed fairly self-explanatory… Except for “Challenges” and “Perk”. What was that supposed to mean?

Glancing up, she seemed similarly confused looks on Sora and Yoruko’s faces. 

“These devices are very handy-dandy, yes indeed! Not only are they vital for your continued survival within this ultimate summer trip, they will be indispensable for how you go about the game included with this event. Yes- Game! Unfortunately enough, however… Not the variety which I have come to enjoy.” The odd bear stared at the ground somberly.

“So… A game, then.” Yoruko looked frustrated. “Why do I get the feeling like I’m a rat under a microscope?”

“There are many secrets in this campus. Hidden within your hearts- Within your bodies, minds and souls. But also the walls, the sky, the sea and the ground below you. Yet all of these secrets, all of the power they hold- Are small game compared to the big one.” The demonic bear chuckled. “Puhuhuhu! For the lucky individual who uncovers this secret, the future foundation will provide you with limitless resources. Now, you’re probably wondering one thing- And noticing the absence of something, as well.”

Seiko’s mind whirled like the center of a sinking vortex as she realized what he was talking about.

“The rules! Of course, of course! Shouldn’t they have been on the tablet? Well I’m pleased to say there are no rules- Not on this campus or in the game within it. No rules supported by the foundation, or by me- That is. Make of that what you will, but we are committed to staying out of this.”

Total anarchy. Of course- Now Yoruko’s statement about being under a microscope was really coming true. When Seiko got out of this, she was going to sue- Not that it would probably do anything. She felt like she was dropped into another Stanford prison experiment, and although she hoped that with the knowledge of no laws binding them everyone would behave, there was no telling what chaos this game would bring.

A game of secrets, huh.

And a reward of untold power.

Somehow, Seiko knew exactly what she would use it on if she got it.

* * *

The opening announcements continued on for a bit after that, with the bar talking about the method by which one could purchase extra hints or supplies by fulfilling “Challenges” -Some of which were related to one’s talent, others making friends or exploring campus, but most of which seemed to be locked for later stages of the game. Still, Seiko had a starting balance of the “Monocoins”, and since people weren’t charged for basic amenities she figured she could spend it on things that actually mattered.

But the most intriguing of the minor things revealed was how exactly the “Perk” system worked- Essentially, each ultimate was allotted a unique benefit in the upcoming game relating to their talent or personality. But, after learning of her own, Seiko grew troubled at the thought that everyone had one like hers.

Seiko Kimura Ultimate Perk: Access to the prepared food of every other ultimate far in advance.

The thought that she had been provided something that expected her to use her knowledge and passion for chemistry for malicious intent… Presumably to slip substances into other’s food was sickening, and it made her worry what exactly was expected of them in the game going forward. Would anyone actually go far enough as something like that to win? After all, so many ultimates had to push through so much already to get to where they are…

After the explanations were wrapped up Monokuma made his departure, and everyone was left both unsettled and speechless. When Yoruko and Sora checked their perks, their reactions were just a bit different- Yoruko simply seemed a bit confused while Sora maintained a somewhat neutral expression.

“Thoughts?” Yoruko posited, raising an eyebrow.

“Besides how ridiculous everything is-“ Began Sora “I have to say my Perk is… Confusing, to say the least.”

“Same here.” Agreed Yoruko. “Although… Well, what about you, Seiko?” 

“I, um… Yeah, me too.” Seiko nervously jittered out. Unlike her companions, she knew exactly what it is she could use it for- The question just was what in the world could compel her to have to use it?

“I… Think we should all agree not to share these. Not because I don’t trust you guys, but, because… Well…” Yoruko began.

“We don’t know where the information is going, and it shouldn’t matter regardless.” Finished Sora. “But… For all it’s worth, I do want to win, but with you by my side, Yoruko.”

Yoruko blushed to a shade of her hair. “Sora, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve said all day. What about you, Seiko? You up for the competition?”

In classic Seiko fashion, she was far too overwhelmed by the implications of her answer to actually give one- Only managing to squeak out a “I’ll get back to you on that”

Luckily- Or perhaps unluckily, depending on how you were to frame it, Seiko was pulled out of the awkward exchange with her new friends by a very familiar sound waning into her ears.

“I’m sorrrry!”

Instantly, a large portion of her lingering anxiety faded away- All that mattered was that Mikan had undeniably gotten herself into trouble again, and worse yet Seiko had managed to get distracted and let her get into trouble. Sighing, she turned towards her new friends.

“Sorry, I’ve got… Something I have to attend to. I’ll see you guys later.”

Sora gave a subtle nod while Yoruko beamed with a thumbs up. “Go get em’, tiger!”

Dashing off as fast as she could, Seiko could easily pick out Mikan now that she knew where she was looking- And it was every bit as unfortunate as she had thought.

As she got a good look at the situation, a foreign emotion flared within Seiko, lighting her blood on fire… Seething, venomous rage. Mikan was getting harassed, no- Double Teamed by two other girls, and of course with the willpower of a wet noodle she had broken down into a sniveling, sobbing sponge of tears. Worse still was the number of people- Some of which Seiko would assume were good Samaritans, who simply ignored what was going on.

A tiny gremlin of a dual-crescent pigtailed girl was the main offender, only standing over Mikan because the nurse happened to be curled up into a ball- While a girl with pink and mauve hair, note hairpins and a sailor uniform with an exaggerated yellow bow seemed to be adding in slightly, while her much more reserved and curvy twin tugged on her shirt and begged her to stop.

“Why are you even here, you nasty pig barf? I hope that while you’re shriveling up like a slug down there, you go ahead and die. Maybe I should pour some salt on you.” The short girl in the orange kimono berated.

“I… I’m sorry I’m a slug!”

“This is seriously just pathetic.” Said the musically-themed girl Seiko recognized as the renowned ultimate Vocalist, Hibiki Otonokoji. “Can’t you take your moping somewhere else?”

Her twin and musical partner, Kanade Otonokoji the ultimate guitarist seemed opposed to the situation but with a willpower not much better than Mikan’s she could only softly plead. “Sis… C’mon. This really isn’t our problem….”

Seiko was someone who prided herself on being calm, reserved… If a bit shy and nervous at times, but there were times- like right now- when they all went out the window, and she became single minded like a train bearing down on its tracks. Without even a smidgen of discourse in her mind, she retrieved a small personal defense device from her jacket that could fire syringes, loaded a high-powered tranquilizer, and fired.

Her aim was true- It’s not like she had to worry about recoil or weight with a simple pressure-based delivery system. In an instant the kimono-clad girl fell over like a sign in a strong breeze, and Seiko had just a moment to come to her senses and regret her actions before the scene erupted into pandemonium.

The famed Ibuki Mioda let out a screech, soon followed by a sharky guy in a jumpsuit and a smaller girl with brown hair and a sketchbook- And Mikan of course joined in, screeching probably more out of confusion than anything. The two twins took one look at Seiko, then Hiyoko- And promptly booked it. Meanwhile, a devil of an opportunist- an odd purple-haired boy with a checkered scarf, took the opportunity to default dance on her body. 

In an instant a red-haired, burly man with a black shirt and a fireman’s pants stepped in front of her. “Hey! Just w-what do you think you’re doing, attacking someone like that?” Despite his size, he seemed to be having… Trouble talking to Seiko?

Before she could even respond, a girl with a pinwheel ribbon and uniform that exposed her abs stepped between Seiko and the man. “Filthy schlonger! What is a degenerate male like you doing to try to this lady?” The appearance of Seiko’s “Savior” only seemed to worsen the redhead’s stance, and he was having some trouble even trying to be menacing. Was he having trouble because they were both girls?

Then, another burly man stepped beside the firefighter, this one in a brown suit that probably barely fit him. “Attacking people is very unladylike! Gonta will protect Hiyoko the gentleman’s way!”

Seiko was on the verge of having another panic attack when she realized she very well may have caused an all-out brawl and immediately plummeted her reputation into the ground… On the first day here! And all because she had acted without even a single thought reminding her to pay attention to what she was doing. This was the reason she could never do anything right!

But before she could fully descend into the depths of panic again, a loud, commanding voice struck her- And everyone else, for that matter- Out of her thoughts.

“Cease this at once!”

The princess of Novoselic, who most people knew for her appearance on international television and almost unreal beauty spoke with a tone like a lightning bolt piercing the heavens.

“What ruffians are you supposed ultimates to resort to petty violence so naturally?” She looked livid, her Celestine face warped by rough lines from a vivid glare. “And you!” She stared down Seiko. “Clean up your mess immediately!”

Seiko nodded, suddenly driven by a single minded desire to just do whatever Sonia wanted- She even and the urge to drop to one knee and kneel. Similarly, everyone else involved looked stricken by various looks of shame.

Mikan seemed to already be on top of it- Checking Hiyoko’s vitals before lifting her small body onto her back. “W-we need to get her to the infirmary…. It’s connected to my room over in the human aid building.” Seiko nodded, and the two awkwardly shuffled away from the pavilion- Practically banished from the opening revelry.

The uncomfortable silence extended its umbral grasp for a while afterwards, even after they were well past everyone else. Seiko pulled down her mask- Finally around one of the only people she was comfortable with showing her face to. “I.. Really messed up everything again, huh?” She muttered sadly.

Mikan tried her best to act comforting, even while being thoroughly downtrodden herself. “W-well… It was mostly my fault… If I wasn’t such a wimp, you wouldn’t have tried to help me.”

Seiko sighed. “I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong, but I could still do to not act so rashly whenever you’re in a bad spot. I um…” Seiko floundered for the words as if she were sifting through a mountain of sand for them. “I do wish you’d stick up for yourself, because you’re amazing… You really are. But, well… I have to admit that no matter how many times I tell you, it’s not going to change much. And that- Definitively isn’t your fault. Just like no amount of reminding me that it’s stupid to get so paranoid around people will change it. I do wish one of these times it’d stick, for both of us- But, well… I think it’s just enough that you tend to cheer up a lot and treat yourself better around me, at least.” 

“Hehe.” Mikan chuckled sadly. “I don’t think I’ve said it yet for this time… But, erm, t-thank you, Seiko.”

“I don’t know if you should be thanking me for doing something so idiotic. You might just encourage that terrible behavior out of me, you know?”

“W-well… I don’t know if I would’ve been much better off sitting curled up on the ground back there till they left. It m-makes me feel terrible that I got you involved again, but it does mean a lot to me that you did…. I don’t know anybody who would stick up for me, and certainly not anybody who would tranq someone for me…”

“That’s definitely a bit too encouraging for what I did, and I definitely never thought I’d hear “Tranqing someone” in a positive context.”

“I don’t really see the point in reminding you w-what you did was bad… To be honest. You already clearly know, and I do have to thank you because… Well, I’m always a little worried you might leave. I think with all these things, whether it’s me hating myself or that thought you might go, or your anxiety… We know it’s the wrong way ‘round, but we just can’t say no…”

“If there’s anything I’ve learned from being a pharmacist, it’s that people are slaves to the odd eccentricities and whims of their mind.” Seiko answered with a morose wind pushing down her words. “Neurotransmitters and hormones… Even for me, the difference between when I take my meds and I don’t is night and day. It really makes me wonder if free will is just some fairytale thing we like to believe in.”

“Yeah, it’s just… No matter how much we try to stop one another from d-drowning, we end up just repeating ourselves again and sinking deeper together.”

At that, the two fell silent for a few more moments… Before Seiko thought of something. “Mikan, do you really believe in it…? What people like that girl tell you.”

At that moment, Mikan was the very image of a lost puppy. “I do… From time to time.”

Some of that all too familiar anger and fear spiked within Seiko… She didn’t quite know why. Was she mad at the girl? Herself? Or… Mikan? She sure hoped she wasn’t mad at her best friend for nothing.

“But uh… She has a name, you know.” Murmured Mikan.

“Huh?”

“The person you tranq’d… It’s Hiyoko. Her name is, erm… Hiyoko.” Mikan flinched as if she expected Seiko to lash out at her- Even after all this time. “You seem to be treating her more like “Somebody who hurt Mikan” then an actual person… She’s Hiyoko Saionji, ultimate traditional dancer.”

Seiko sighed and was yet again in awe at how endearingly pure Mikan could be in situations like this- Trying to look out even for somebody who had treated her like garbage. Sometimes, moments like this made Seiko forget just how scarily obsessive she could be about her patients and people leaving her.

“Noted.” Seiko responded softly, trying her best to see her in a bit more of a positive light- If only for Mikan’s sake.

“Umm… On a similar note, are you sure that tranquilizer was safe? She is really a lightweight after all…” Seiko winced at the thought that on top of all of her failures today, she could’ve possibly hurt someone- A little devil of a someone, but still.

“It… Should have been fine.” Said Seiko, rapidly becoming worried herself. “The syringes configured for this personal defense weapon are designed to inject in intervals to allow for safe sedation of a variety of targets… But you are right that she’s a bit of an outlier, and I haven’t really tested it that much outside of lab settings.”

Dreading what she’d find, Seiko checked the impact point of the syringe- And was relieved to see that it was barely drained at all. She carefully removed it from where it was stuck in the flesh, applying a band-aid from her jacket. “Looks like it only took one dose to send her packing to dreamland…”

“Oh thank god.” Mikan said as she breathed a sigh of relief. “B-but, we still can’t be too careful… I should make sure she’s okay when we get her to the infirmary.”

The shroud or silence permeated between the two for a while longer- As it often did- till Mikan tentatively spoke up again. “Umm… I-if you don’t mind me asking, of course- When did you make that syringe gun…? It seems… Rather functional.”

“Oh.” Started Seiko, somewhat happy to be moving away from the topic of the girl she’d incapacitated. “I designed it as a personal defense device a while back, since I didn’t really have any training in firearms and was beginning to… Worry about certain things.” Seiko left it at that, unpleasant memories coming to mind. “A-Anyways, I sold off the design for the gun and the variable injection syringes, but they ended up in the hands of a pmc, which I was pretty unhappy about…” Seiko chose to not mention that she was the person who sold off the design when she was desperately in need of funding.

“Oh… Hmm.” A puzzled expression crossed Mikan’s face. “I can't think of any reason a pmc would need a safety minded non-lethal way to subdue people, though…”

Seiko could, but she didn’t want to spoil how innocently childish and naive Mikan could be on certain topics. “Well, all I know is it did end up in malicious hands, unfortunately.” Seiko hoped Mikan wouldn’t notice the obvious contradiction of how she knew, however.

But luckily Mikan’s mind seemed to wander in other… Uncanny directions, as she got a frightening twinkle in her eyes. “Are the syringes usable with any other substance than that particular tranquilizer?”

“um… Well…” Seiko chided herself for pulling the conversation to Mikan’s odd obsession with needles. “Yes, the injection rate and dose amounts are configurable, which means you could use them with pretty much everything if you knew what you were doing. I only tested the use of endorphins with them, though…”

Seiko could only watch in horror as the gleam within Mikan’s eyes grew. “It’s a really interesting technology, Seiko…” 

“W-well, I appreciate the compliment, Mikan, but I, uh… Don’t really see how it’d be useful for you. It’s only really useful if you intend to use it on an unwilling or distant target…”

Mikan blinked, seemingly snapping out of her needle-induced trance. “Ehehe… You’re right. It, erm… Looks like we’re here.”

Surely enough, the duo plus one unconscious gremlin were only a few steps away from the Ultimate Human Care building, which was impressive- To say the least. It was a massive building, both tall and wide, and featured a massive set of windows on the entrance, along with a large skylight to let in a huge amount of light.

It clearly took inspiration from a number of buildings used by various jobs that would fit under the “Human Care” umbrella, appearing as something of a mix between a hospital, hotel, fire station and lavish restaurant. Inside, each floor had its own ringed balcony and glass bridges that allowed one to look all the way down to the lobby, as well as anyone in the lobby to look up and be awestruck by the scale of everything and the way it used foliage and the various bridges to create a slightly mystifying view.

The inspiration from its occupants became more clear as the two entered the building through the automatic glass doors, including a display firetruck in the lobby, an overall emphasis on the blues, whites and medical symbols you’d see in a hospital- but still with a classy tinge that seemed slightly victorian, bars and cafes that seemed to be self-stocking, fire poles between floors, and… Abundant use of foliage, including a literal petting zoo in the lobby… Seiko could guess that maybe the “human” part of human care was not as relevant for one of the people living here.

Overall it was chaotic and only fit together in a haphazard way… But still was impressive and homey, and did make Seiko fairly excited for what her building would end up looking like. It even had a portion of the lobby with a glass floor that looked down into a very well-equipped pool area with waterslides, a hot tub, and all the other implements.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have too long to take in the sights and sounds- As Mikan rushed over to her room and lab as quickly as one could while giving a piggyback ride to an unconscious dancer. It was on the first floor, probably for ease of access in situations like these, and featured a more normal looking door and a push set that could fit a stretcher through if need be.

The two wordlessly bolted through the stretcher doors and were both greeted by the very comforting and familiar smell of perhaps overbearing disinfectant that was often used to mask the smell of the sickly and dying. To some, it was sharp and irritating, even causing nausea… But to these two, they’d spent the entirety of their professional lives breathing in this smell in places that might have been second homes, so it was reassuring and immediately calmed Seiko by a few levels.

They pushed through another door labeled “Infirmary”, which managed to put “Hospitable” Into “Hospital” far more than any Seiko had visited in the past. Even though it maintained the basic feel you’d expect from common places of medicine, it was far more luxurious- Featuring almost an overabundance of things you couldn’t always expect- Like state of the art medical equipment or separate rooms for patients (Seiko really hoped they wouldn’t need to fill up all of these at some point…) And some you would almost never see, like rooms that seemed more natural in a five star hotel, with luxurious beds, soft carpet (That Seiko wondered how they were expected to clean in… Certain situations) plenty of decorations, an expensive-looking TV- and most importantly, a gorgeous view out the window overlooking the crashing ocean.

Mikan set Hiyoko down on the bed and immediately set about monitoring her vitals and double-checking that everything was okay- And Seiko acted almost like an extension of Mikan’s mind, as they ran through procedures they’d done many, many times before and communicated complicated ideas wordlessly in a way they’d never be able to do with anything that wasn’t related to the human body. In no time, they’d reached a verdict.

Hiyoko was okay- Thank god: Seiko didn’t know what she’d do if her stupid, stupid actions caused even more trouble today. But… The medical duo did stumble upon issues they probably weren’t supposed to know about that were entirely unrelated to the incident with the tranquilizer (Although probably weren’t helped by it, either)

Hiyoko was heavily malnourished and had a terrible diet, something the two could tell even without asking or observing her directly. This, of course, set Mikan into overdrive caring for somebody who had not too long ago caused her to curl up into a ball like a rolly-polly… As she assembled together a set of recommendations on diet, supplements and warnings based on the unsurprisingly extensive information and medicine at her fingertips in this place.

Seiko hung around as Mikan made herself busy, not only to offer occasional advice relating to her own talent and generally to stay with her friend… But also because she wanted to be there when Hiyoko woke up, although she wasn’t exactly sure why. Did she want to apologize? Or… Something else?

She didn’t get to finish that thought, however, when a particularly shady-looking character sauntered into the private room and Seiko regretted not locking the door behind her.

He was someone who looked like he only put forward the least amount of effort possible to look professional, which ironically made him look even more lazy and casual. Although he wore a white jacket and pants that might’ve looked presentable if worn right, the unbuttoned jacket exposing a similarly unbuttoned dress shirt underneath and loose red tie that was somehow curled up into a “U” shape was anything but; with the pants hiked up and exposing shower sandals for good measure.

His face and hair were similarly unscrupulous- a bit of untrimmed stubble, devious smirk and unkempt gray hair in jagged lines. He looked like the kind of person you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley… Or exactly the person you were looking for, depending on the type of person you were and how law-abiding you were. And somehow… This man was familiar to Seiko.

As soon as he entered, Mikan yelped and stepped backward, holding her arms up defensively. “W-who are you? Why are you here? Y-you’re not here to mock me, are you?”

“Stop saying stupid shit.” He said, leaning against the wall of the room with a bored expression on his face. “I try not to waste my time on things that won't accomplish anything- Like bullying you. That way, I don’t have to bother myself with annoying people, and you can save your clearly very fragile self-esteem.”

“Why are y-you here?” Seiko stuttered out as confidently as she could for Mikan’s sake while a fairly threatening stranger was in her personal space.

He shrugged. “Nothing much. Somebody just paid me to make sure Miss Hyde over here hadn’t killed the dancer… Or tried to kill her while she was down.” He gestured over to Seiko.

“I wouldn’t-” Seiko began, only to be suddenly cut off by Mikan.

“Seiko wouldn’t do that!” She cried in a sudden and uncharacteristic display of boldness. “A-and, even if she did, I would never let someone hurt one of my patients like that, no matter who they were!” 

For a single moment, it seemed like the stranger was going to become angry- but all that came was a look of slight irritation as he put a finger gun to his head. “You think I don’t know that? Just because I'm paid to do something doesn’t mean I believe in it. That’s one of the basics of being a service people can rely on and are willing to give their money to.”

“Service?” Seiko glared, and had pulled up her mask the moment he entered the room. “Who the hell would pay you for something, especially here?”

“You’d be surprised, Sicko.” he rolled his eyes. “Besides you two eggheads, I happen to be the most competent one here in terms of medical knowledge.”

“Doubtful.” Seiko replied immediately, before beginning to throw out random medical trivia…

...To which every question he answered correctly.

Now Seiko was becoming suspicious. “Who are you?”

“That’s on a need-to-know basis. And at the risk of sounding corny, you don’t need to know. And more importantly, I don’t want or need to tell you. If you want to know, pay me.”

“Pay you? Why would I ever do that?”

“Are you trying to imply my name isn’t worth much?” He questioned, somehow earnestly. “I figured you’d at least understand the basic facts that names are worth a lot. Imagine trying to track someone down without a name- It’d be hard, right?” He yawned as if he had not a care in the world. “Everything’s worth something- Or, it’d be more accurate to say that some idiot will pay for anything.”

“And you’re implying I’m that idiot.” Seiko said with crossed arms.

“No, but if I hand it out like it’s free, said idiot won’t pay. It’s that simple, right?” He moved to the right side of the bed, shoving Seiko out of the way. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check if this girl’s dead so I can say that I did.”

Mikan squeaked as Seiko protested. “Hey, you can’t-”

“Or what?” He said as he began to check Hiyoko’s vitals with just a little less familiarity than Seiko or Mikan. “You’re going to shoot me with a tranq and I'll end up in the room next to this one?” He raised an eyebrow tauntingly. 

When Seiko froze up in response to the question, he shook his head and returned to the routine. “See? You can't take the plunge when your girlfriend over there isn’t in danger.”

“It’s not like i’m going to try anything.” He mumbled to himself. “I don’t quite feel like getting stabbed by the lady in a nurse’s apron over there.”

“You clearly don’t know anything about her if you’re trying to imply she’d do that.” Seiko spat out.

“On the contrary, I think I know a little bit too much and you’re mad I figured it out.” He pointed out as he finished his brief checkup. “The eyes she was giving me while I was touching that girl were intense, let me tell you.”

Seiko glanced over at Mikan to confirm- whose face was indeed twisted in a strange type of way, before it slowly morphed back into the usual, slightly pathetic kind.

The man meandered back to his post near the door. “Was that so bad?” He scoffed.

“Okay, if you’re done- Then leave. This room was private in the first place.” Seiko seethed.

“Didn’t you hear the terms? I can't leave till you do, meds, no matter how unnecessary I think it is. Those were the terms I agreed on, and I see no reason to deviate from them right now.” He explained boredly. “The doc is fine, just not you- The person who commissioned me clearly thinks you need to be supervised like a kid around her.”

“Who was the one who paid you, anyways?”

“You should at least know enough about me by now to know that I don’t rat out my sources for no reason.” He retrieved a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it, only to sigh and immediately put it out after Mikan pleaded.

“N-no smoking in hospital rooms, please…. It’s v-very hazardous! Actually, I would recommend you simply quit smoking… For your own good…” Mikan trailed off after the stranger leveled a stare of pure apathy. 

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me your talent, either.” Seiko posed.

“Hey, at least you’re finally hearing what i’m saying, mask.” He quipped with an easygoing grin.

“And it didn’t occur to you that I could just search through the student handbook to find any of this out?”

“I guess, but at that point you’d be wasting enough time to be worth a bit of money anyways- And you’d only figure out my name, anyways. The handbooks can display false or even no talents.”

“What?”

“Huh, you don’t even know that?” He asked while digging into his ear. “You should really work out how these things work if you want any hope of winning. Just from a bit of observation, I've already spotted people who are definitely lying about their talents. For all you know, I could be the ultimate baker.”

Seiko was becoming increasingly agitated and stressed… But the most irritating thing was he always seemed to know what to say, and only seemed to cycle through annoyance and nonchalance. For someone she imagined was involved in shady activities, he seemed to never have much of a care of the outcome of anything.

Mikan’s wristband handbook chirped as she seemed to receive a message, and she glanced down and began to sweat slightly. “Ummm… I need to go for a moment… Seiko, can you make sure he doesn’t do anything to Hiyoko?”

“Of course.” Seiko agreed with a full smile, which prompted Mikan to dash out of the room.

“She really doesn’t understand that out of the two of us, you’re the bigger threat to that kid, huh.” The man muttered thoughtfully. “Or maybe she just chooses to ignore that thought, like I bet you do with a lot of things.”

“You act a lot smarter than you probably are.” Seiko barbed with a thoroughly unamused expression.

“Pah, who doesn’t- Right?” He shrugged casually, and with a smirk. “People are like frogs who inflate themselves to look more threatening.”

Sighing at yet another failed attempt to get under his skin, Seiko’s attention was suddenly caught by Hiyoko beginning to stir.

Her uninvited guest seemed to notice something, and for the first time showed just a bit of consideration on his face. “Hey Doctor Tranqs. Say what you will to the kid.”

“What?” Seiko glanced back with a bewildered expression.

“I mean what I said. My investor never said anything about making sure you say one thing or another to the kid, and quite frankly I see no need to tell them, either. You’re free to say whatever you want.”

Seiko was shocked at his sudden thoughtfulness- Although she didn’t know if it was simply sloth. She was slightly peeved at what he was implying, but… He wasn’t exactly wrong, either.

And she would have her chance to use his sudden clarification, as Hiyoko’s eyes blinked open and she quickly cycled through the emotions normal for waking up in a strange place with people you don’t know- Confusion… And fear. Which happened to be exactly perfect for Seiko’s plan.

Cycling through a thousand thoughts like they were speeding past her on a highway, Seiko resolved to simply say “Fuck it” before going with her instinct. That hadn’t failed her earlier today, had it?

She leaned in particularly close, moving even closer when Hiyoko tried to shuffle away on the bed. “Listen here.” She breathed, eyes sharpened into dark pinpricks like sheared coastal rocks. “You’re here because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut around my friend and I decided it was better that you took a nap for a little bit. Next time this happens, there are much… Much worse things I can send pumping around in your bloodstream, so watch yourself from now on, alright? Or better yet, try your best to be a reasonable person and be an angelic friend to her. She could use one.”

Seiko pulled back, content with the familiar expression of sheer terror on Hiyoko’s face that she’d seen on her own far too often.

The stranger spoke from the far side of the room. “She means business, you know.” He stated with the most serious expression she’d seen from him yet- Although she could see just the slightest jovial shine in his eyes. “I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”

Hiyoko nodded slowly, and a few moments later Mikan burst into the room again. “I-I’m sorry I was gone for so long. O-oh! You’re awake. Just, erm… One second.” Mikan scrambled like a doting mother, all the while Seiko kept eye contact with the still terrified Hiyoko.

Seiko cleared her throat. “I think you’ve got it from here Mikan.” She finished as she began heading toward the door.

“It’s about time.” The unwanted visitor complained. “Thought I would be here all day.

And with that, the two moved out of the room, with a turbulent question already on Seiko’s mind. “Why’d you do that.”

“Huh?”

“Set me up like that- saying that I was clear to threaten her and backing me up when I did.”

“Pffh, you want an honest answer?” He asked with a Machiavellian grin. “Part of it was wondering if you had the guts to do it, but admittedly I have less affection for that kid than most. I like not to waste my time on unnecessary things, and belittling someone for the sake of it is about as unnecessary as you can get- It’s always just to puff yourself up like those frogs I was talking about. Real strong people don’t bother and use their time more wisely. Besides, I had a theory.

“...Theory?” Seiko hung on the end of his words with curiosity.

He rolled his eyes. “You got enough info out of me already, don’t you think? Now scram. After having to hang around you because of my deal, I don’t want to see you for at least a while.”

Seiko shook her head. Just for a moment there, she’d seen something… Actually redeemable in that scum of a person.

“Actually, wait.” He added after she took a few steps off. “One more bit of info I'll grant you. It’s Syobai Hashimoto.”

“Huh?”

He pressed another finger gun to his head. “The name you were so hasty to get your hands on: it's Syobai Hasimoto, Ultimate Broker.”

Seiko scoffed. “After all that about me needing to pay you for it?”

“I don’t like to press my morals onto people- There’s not much point in it anyways.” He began, before glancing off to the side and his voice becoming just a bit less casual “But I do feel like I need to explain after all I said earlier. Life’s short, and it’s vicious and a bitch: the last thing it is would be “Fair”. You’ve got to claw your way to the top, kicking and screaming, and once you get to the top boot anybody else down without any remorse. Anybody who drags the weak or daft along with them is just going to get slowed down.”

He retrieved another cigarette and lit it, taking a draft. “But all that being said, there’s a certain something about knowing all that and still carrying them on your back to be admired. Guess what i’m trying to say is…” He stared right past Seiko. “Keep on keeping on, meds: you’re strong, and I only say that when I mean it. If you get out of your own head, you might just make this miserable planet just a little bit less so.”

Seiko’s eyes grew wide at his sudden knowledge of her- And she quickly put together his talent, familiar face, and odd info on her. “You… You’re the one who negotiated all the deals between me and the pmcs!”

Syobai buried his face in one of his hands, and for the first time genuinely laughed. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to remember, braces- Guess my face is more memorable than I thought, huh?” He shuffled past Seiko with a lackadaisical walk. “Oh- And not so loud next time. I won't tell anybody if you don't.” He ended with a wink. 

As he pushed through the doors and left Seiko to her own devices, she could only wonder if she’d made a valuable contact or met a very dangerous individual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The few definitions that not everyone may know:
> 
> >Neurotransmitters: Essentially the body's most important mood regulators, exchanged through the brain. Both Depression and Anxiety are caused by a lack of critical neurotransmitters, which is precisely why calling it "Just being sad" or to "Get over it" Is ignorant and hurtful, especially to those suffering from it.
> 
> >PMC's: Private Military Companies, which as you may expect exert military influence without being attached to a government. In the real world they usually don't have much global impact, but in media they're often used as armed boogeymen when actual national force isn't appropriate- Merryweather in GTA, Murkywater in Payday, or Fenrir in DR.
> 
> >Endorphins: A subsection of neurotransmitters that deaden pain and bolster pleasure, similar to adrenaline
> 
> Alright, lets talk about DR3. What went wrong?
> 
> Well, the overall problem is trying to write DR like a shounen. The two... Simply don't match. Sure, they both have goofball moments and crazy showdowns at points (DR even pays homage to dragon ball, Jojo's, etc.) But although Shounen can have some of the most integral parts of DR3- Psychological horror, character, etc. - It's not the main point of the genre. Which is obviously, fights.
> 
> So much of future side is just... Pointless fights. DR thrives on character, and more than that characters that both conform and fit into tropes to defy your expectations. Due to future side's emphasis on pointless combat, and ridiculous combat at that. I'm not saying DR is grounded at all, but it certainly isn't to the level of ridiculousness everything DR3 was.
> 
> This ultimately led to literally every character in DR3 pretty much getting shafted in terms of character, nothing to be said of returning characters. It did good things... Seeing Kyoko's progression after DR1 was particularly nice. But Seiko, Ruruko, Miaya or literally anybody else were all filler and unsurprisingly fall to everyone's lows in tierlists, besides a few staunch advocates. When Kodaka is at the helm, he usually does a very good job of making sure even characters that die early serve their purpose, especially as the series goes on and in V3- Just look at Kaede and Rantaro, or Angie and Tenko (Who bolstered Himiko's character development) This ultimately runs into the issue that cramming any of DR's normal traits into a short anime is just... Hard. The impact of characters dying is naturally determined by a few things, but a big part of it is how long the audience has been exposed to them.
> 
> That being said, it could've been done better. Much better. DR can get away with sometimes sloppy introductions by the fact that it has days upon days and free time events of dialogue to develop characters however slightly, but making people care about characters in Anime is a lot harder, and made even worse when the focus isnt on character (One of the cores of DR in my opinion) Hell, I would argue most people tuned into DR3 just to see their favorite characters more.
> 
> As for my interpretation of Seiko, I wanted to preserve some of sort of inability to function around people, especially since its known that her mask is a defense mechanism to hide her expressions, kind of like the inverse of Shuichi's hat. She has a lot of similarities to Mikan as well, which is why I gave the two their prefic interactions.. Besides, it lets me implement the rage she experiences near the end of DR3, which I think spices up her character and makes her slightly volatile and something of a mirror of Mikan yet total opposite. She's someone who's incredibly caring, almost to the point of overexerting herself... And crumbling under people's expectations, but this also means she can be extremely defensive of people and act rashly in turn. 
> 
> This chapter's music track is Dig Your Own Hole by Gotye, a song about being stuck in a rut which translates nicely to Mikan and Seiko's feelings- They even say things akin to the lyrics at some point.
> 
> Chapter meme title: *Loads Syringe With Malicious Intent*


	6. Touch Tone Telephone (Pt 1.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi begins to explain to Kaede how he even got here in the first place, along with why there are two ultimate detectives, and his relationship to Kyoko.
> 
> In the past, Shuichi is subjected to a series of unfortunate events with an equal series of silver linings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while, anybody who's listening! I love comments, still... Although I do appreciate everything else.
> 
> This chapter is about half of an extra long planned chapter that I felt was running on too long. Explanations in the end notes for the weird stuff you might see here and there, and my... Questionable choices at time. Unlike Kyoko, I do not have a galaxy brain. Or something that stops me from being overly verbose about everything, for that matter.

Kaede and Shuichi sat across from one another, her friends (Ibuki and Kotoko, or “The goon Squad”) a little bit away talking amongst themselves. Kaede had a perplexed, transparent sort of expression that flowed across her face as she ruminated. While the mousey ultimate painter- Iroha Nijue sat nearby, completely absorbed in her sketchbook.

The tiny girl looked a bit too young for it, but was a high school senior- Still younger than the average ultimate who was halfway through college, however. Her outfit largely consisted of the colors beige and brown- Including a checkered capelet that stood out the most and a beret plopped atop her bob of brown hair. Hair that was fairly lengthy, and oddly tied under her neck with a green bow.

Shuichi’s mind, as per usual, ran wild- This couldn’t be good for him. Every analysis and observation trampling over him like a ruinous stampede of information, leaving him slightly dazed and assuredly a bit less perceptive in-moment than he could’ve been.

He at least had something of an excuse this time, rather than overwhelming himself on musings of pointless things like he often did in daily life. His situation was truly extraordinary, and- Well, ultimate, and he couldn’t imagine how any participants here could just go about their business without being overwhelmed by the implications of everything.

But yet again he was proven undoubtedly wrong, as most of everyone seemed to be taking everything in stride or only pondering over their circumstances in minor ways before going about their revelry… A far cry from Shuichi’s almost debilitating tendency to overthink things. He didn’t think “Thinking too much” was something you could be diagnosed with… It’s not like it was anxiety, exactly. Just a tendency to get caught up in your own internal play a bit too easily. Was he ADHD? Despite supposedly being a detective, he had to admit his understanding of everything outside of criminal psychology was lax- One of the many, many things he had on his bucket list to learn more about.

Not only were there the ultimates, and the various implications of their talents and pasts (Just who decided to crown the “Ultimate Yakuza? Was the future foundation pressured into it? Surely the Kuzuryuu clan wouldn’t just send their heir without protection- Which meant there was probably an ultimate who was acting as a sort of bodyguard. If he was here, what was the chance of other prominent members of the underworld, too? After all, they had even overlooked somebody like Celeste who undeniably had dealings in illegal activities before) but on top of that he had the game which everyone had been thrust into, which was undoubtedly worse in the questions it raised.

Was it just for the sake of the psychological experiment portion of the UTDP? Were they simply bluffing for the sake of analysis, and would step in if anything truly dangerous happened, or were they telling the truth and were using their presence to ignore international law? For that matter, how would they collect any data that occurs… Did they have surveillance all over the campus, or were their multiple insiders among his peers? Was the prize really as powerful as they made it out to be- And how many people would be going after it? Were everyone’s perks as benign as his, or was there anything truly despicable among the crowd?

“Shuichi.” The boy to that name was shaken out of his dire question-induced stupor by a worried word and pout from Kaede. “You’re thinking too much again, aren’t you?” 

“I, um… Maybe.” He answered with a blush. “But to be fair, there is a lot going on- And a lot that needs to be explained, for that matter.”

She leveled a concerned, empathetic look like a particularly lucid note. “There’s a pretty clear difference between thinking over things casually and worrying about them until you stop enjoying yourself and your eyes bug out, you know.”

“...” Shuichi tilted his head down to block out Kaede’s expression with the brim of his hat. Despite all of the perplexing riddles that’d been hefted upon him in the last few hours, one fairly benign one stood out: why was Kaede going out of her way to talk to him. It was so pressing, he worked past his hesitancy to bring it up.

“Kaede, why are you… Doing this? Making me a priority, that is. Even from the moment you stepped on the bus, you sat beside me and tried to make conversation.” Shuichi’s voice, as always, vibrated with the subtle undertones of melancholy that clung to it like raindrops.

Kaede’s face held still for a moment as she contemplated what he’d said, before she burst out into a cheerful and soothing laugh. “Gosh, Shuichi- I thought you were going to ask me really tough questions that I’d have to think about for a while. That’s easy- so easy it’s just second nature to me by this point. I just want to help you and be friends with you… Isn’t that enough? Not everyone has an ulterior motive to these things, you know. And for what it’s worth, I’ve always wanted to meet someone as intriguing as the ultimate detective himself.”

“Yeah well… About that.” Shuichi was thankful he wouldn’t have to see Kaede’s disappointed expression when she learned who he actually was. “I’m honestly… Not very worthy of the title- It was practically handed to me. If you want the actual ultimate detective, you should probably talk to Kyoko.”

Kaede sighed, disappointed in an entirely different way. “I know that’s BS, Shuichi: and I think you know, too. You’re just being obstinate and refusing to admit it! Everybody’s here for a reason, especially you! Besides…” Her voice became a little more lighthearted. “She doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’s fun to talk to, you know? Like trying to make a conversation with a wooden board. I like people I talk to, react, to squish and laugh when I poke them!”

“You make me seem like a sea anemone you’re torturing.” Shuichi pointed out. “And… Besides, I don’t mind too much but I don’t know if you should be insulting people’s role models right in front of them. Some people are obsessed, you know…”

“I wasn’t insulting anyone, just speaking my mind!” She pouted.”And besides, I think that stoic, unflinching demeanor like a wall of stone is exactly what she’s going for.”

“Although the message is important, the way you phrase it is too.” Shuichi reminded. “Comparing someone to a wooden plank is never seen in a good light, I think. A wall of stone is… A bit better, though.”

“Well, I think more important than both of those is the intention behind it and the heart you put into it, and I think anyone could see that I didn’t mean any harm by it! The only way it could be seen so is if it was thoroughly out of context. And… Wait, you got me off topic!” She grumbled, which elicited rambunctious laughter from the nearby goon squad.

“You two! Stop laughing!” Iroha looked up from her sketchbook with a slightly droopy, confused look.”Uh, not you, Iroha! You’re good.” Iroha smiled and regained her full attention on whatever she was painting- The whole exchange of which prompted more snickering from the goon squad.

“Hey, guys!” Kaede shouted “it’s not funny- You know this is the reason I’m like this in the first place- Your tangential shenanigans rubbed off on me!”

“Ibuki thinks that’s entirely your fault, Kaeayay- And that you were like that a long time before we met you. I think the only thing that can hold your attention for long at all is piano.” She exclaimed with her usual boisterous level of eccentricity.

“Same here.” Agreed Kotoko. “You should just lean into it- It definitely makes you more adorbs. Why do you think we do it?”

“I don’t think being easily distracted is cute at all, thank you very much. And!” She stopped for a second, holding a finger in the air. “I’m going to nip this in the bud before I get led off topic again. Now… You!” She pointed at Shuichi.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you!” She dropped her hand. “As much as I’m all for using someone as a role model to improve yourself- After all, I do the same thing all the time with countless musicians, both classical and otherwise-“

“Like Ibuki?” 

“-Not now, Ibuki- I definitely think the way you admire Kyoko is unhealthy! She may be a beautiful and proficient young detective, but I don’t think anyone should block out their emotions like that… After all, it’s detrimental and almost blasphemous to dampen something so beautiful and free… What makes humans humans, what creates the beautifully fickle art we conjure- But more than that, endlessly comparing yourself to someone else no matter how similar you are on the surface is meaningless, and quite frankly- Dumb! Those very same emotions and experiences we all go through make each of us unique, and that’s something to be celebrated rather than wishing you were like someone else.”

Shuichi sighed. “Kaede, I appreciate the thought… Really. But you’re starting to sound a lot like generic self-help books right now and I just… Honestly, I don't know if I’m ready to believe in what you have to say. Maybe, just… Give me some time.”

Shuichi shifted his hat, catching a look at an absolutely heartbroken expression from Kaede which in turn inflicted itself on him. “Yeah… Yeah. You’re right, I’m uh, getting ahead of myself again, right? Sorry.”

Shuichi closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “I do… Want you to understand where I’m coming from, though. Just in case… Just in case you decide I’m still worth your time, and I decide I am too.”

Ibuki and Kotoko perked up and spoke in unison. “Story time?”

Kaede gave a scolding look to her two hooligan friends. “I’ll let you two listen, too- As long as Shuichi is okay with it. But no interruptions, okay? I let it slide because it was my story, but this is different- It’s important enough that he decided he’s willing to share.”

“Fiiiine…” Mumbled the two collectively.

“Well, um…” Shuichi stared at the ground and plucked his memories from the river Styx cutting a path through his mind. “It was a day just like any other, I guess- I was lying in bed, wasting away….”

* * *

Shuichi Saihara laid face down in the gray luxurious king-sized bed that was altogether far too large for one fledgling college wannabe detective- To where even when he was sprawled out across the haphazard sheets in his pajamas, there still was a substantial void of empty space.

A knock came at the door, causing the sleeping prince to groan. “Go away, Akane. I don’t feel like talking right now.”

Whoever had knocked, apparently named Akane (And certainly not who you’re thinking of…) Yelled back in an irritated tone. “You haven’t felt like talking for the past few days, and I need to get in there to pick up the mess you undoubtedly made!”

“Any chance you can do that in silence?”

“Nope.”

“Then… Can you come back later, please?” Shuichi pleaded.

For a few moments, silence. Then, the explosive sound of Shuichi’s door being thrown open and promptly knocking over a few boxes, revealing the maid of the Saihara household- Akane Tiara- In full French-maid attire.

You’d think the ginger-haired, cinnamon-eyed girl would prefer something more comfortable when the only person she was seeing in the house was Shuichi (Who had expressed his wish for her to be as comfortable as she wanted) But she clung to the old-fashioned thing quite fiercely even still, putting quite a lot of pride into it (Which Shuichi had to admit she did always look more than presentable) It made him wonder how many outfits she had besides that single one… A thought he’d never bothered to check as he wouldn’t dare intrude in her room, even though she’d said she didn’t care.

But Shuichi wasn’t doing any thinking in that moment, because he was startled into spastically rolling around, getting caught in his bed covers and ending up almost falling off the bed- causing him to lock eyes with Akane whole upside down.

“Smooth as usual, Saihara junior.” She smugly joked.

“You could have at least warned me before you blasted down the door…” Shuichi groaned, doing his best to flop back onto his bed.

She rolled her eyes. “The point was to wake you up, since it seems like you haven’t left that bed in forever. And…” Suddenly, her mood soured- As she clenched her teeth and glared at Shuichi. “What is this?”

Shuichi’s room was massive by any standards- As to be expected when you lived in a manor funded by your exorbitantly wealthy (Although oft absent) parents. However, he hardly used the space at all- Just a few bookshelves, a desk, bed and dresser, which made the place feel more empty than anything.

What didn’t help was the fact that much of what little furnishings he had were stripped off the walls, tops of furniture and shelves and stuffed into boxes chaotically scattered around the room, but although this room was no stranger to messes- Shuichi unfortunately knew that what had drawn Akane’s ire was an entirely different matter.

“...” He remained in silent shame, running a hand through his bed head nervously as she picked up a novel, reading the cover and scowling before turning it to Shuichi. “Really, Shuichi? Really?”

The cover read: “James Zagreus- Sleuth in darkness” and featured a classic noir detective hidden in the night from a shady dealing under a streetlight a bit away.

“That one was kind of childish anyways…” He mumbled off as a poor excuse.

“Then how about this one?” She pulled out another book, this one reasonably larger- It read:

“Forensics in the modern age: how to catch a perfect criminal.”

“Or this one?” She held up a final tome, this one with much more emphasis. It’s title was:

“To search for the truth- By Kyoko Kirigiri”

“...” Shuichi really wished he had his hat on to block the look from Akane that he swore was burrowing through his irises.

She dropped the last book onto the ground with a resounding thud, pinching her brow and groaning in frustration. “You can’t just abandon your hobby, your dream and your profession because of one bad run, Shuichi! It’s one thing to stop doing detective work… But this? Seriously? Did you honestly think I was just going to let you dump all of your geeky detective stuff in the trash?”

“I, um… Didn’t think that far ahead.” He muttered with a thick layer of shame.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, before sighing and placing her hands on her hips. “I want to be all buddy-buddy and friendly with you Shuichi, I really do- But with all the time I’ve spent with you you’re less like a client and more like a brother to me, and I’d rather choke on porcelain chunks than let you treat yourself like this. So here’s what’s going to happen: You’re going to get the fuck out of bed, put on some decent clothes, and we’re going to unpack all of this. Alright?”

Shuichi nodded slowly and wordlessly, before shambling over to get ready- While Akane was already busy arranging all of his figurines again. He grabbed some running shorts and a navy tee- Knowing he didn’t need to worry about style or professionalism around Akane, and not as attached to any stuffy outfits like her. Then, he moved into the bathroom while Akane began whistling a cheery tune.

The bathroom in his room shared the trend of things that were far too large for him- He hadn’t even really used the huge bath with plenty of jets and bubbles. Shuffling over in front of one of expansive mirrors, he stared… Getting a real good look at himself.

In a few words: he looked miserable. A bed-head of incorrigible hair that only matched his ever-infuriating strand that could never stay down… Shallow eyes like puddles in a parking lot, with shadows underneath them in regal purples. And the expression… He had to admit, he really did look like a lost puppy.

Taking a breath so sharp it stabbed, he whispered a sentence to himself:

“Can you tell me what was really ever special about me all this time?”

Shaking his head, he set about finally taking care of himself for the first time in a few days- Showering, brushing his teeth, and finally putting on a new set of clothes.

By the time he returned to his room, Akane was halfway done setting up his room back to its former “Glory” if you could call it that, featuring posters, figurines and novels from mystery, crime and thrillers alike, fiction or nonfiction. But he knew that she wasn’t going to let him off the hook of the action of restoring what he had so quickly torn down.

So, he grabbed one of the boxes, moving to the other side of the room and helping out as well.

Akane cleared her throat before glancing over at Shuichi. “I want you to go through your thought process on all this one more time.”

Shuichi paused for a moment, before sighing and getting back to worth. “I don’t know what there’s left to say, honestly.”

“That’s fine.” She answered fiercely. “I just really want to hear it again. How you felt, your entire thought process.”

“Alright.” He agreed hesitantly, taking a moment to stare out the window. “It was, um… It was all fine until the end, honestly. I was so excited to work on my first murder case, you know? All the pieces were clicking into place. I mean, no one else seemed to really see it the same way I did- The guy was really smart. But uh…” He winced. “Turns out, there’s a whole hell of a lot of things different about a homicide case then just tracking down runaways or pets. I mean, it makes sense, right? And I understood that. It’s just, umm.”

He winced, shutting his eyes with a fair amount of force. “I never thought it would be that hard… Actually condemning someone for a lifetime because of their actions. Of course, in any of my novels they were always the bad guy, someone irredeemable… Even in anything nonfiction they naturally didn’t focus on anything past the psychology behind their motives. So when I saw him, after all was said and done… After I had “Won”, it was just… I felt like I had pointed my metaphorical “Gun” at the wrong person, you know?”

“But you did get the right person.” Akane recalled. “You and the forensics department proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

“You think I don’t know that? It’s just… Well, the look he gave me was ineffable. The fury and the fire behind those eyes, more destructive Than a hundred cannons… But if it were just that I could stand it. I mean, it’s only natural somebody would be angry when you catch them, right? But it was the way that anger swirled and clashed with his raging sadness, forming this nebulous ring of emotion in those ferocious eyes. They were… They were judging me so severely, asking me the question if I had the authority to sentence someone like that. The questions, the potential answers… The emotions and turbulent storm of information all just in one expression closed around and choked by like a grand snake, no- Orborous made of darkness.”

Shuichi clutched his heart. “And then… In just a moment, it was gone- He was gone, carted off to a lifetime of imprisonment. But… It left this cold branding on my heart. It’s just… I had just ruined this man’s life. And for what, exactly? What he had done… I honestly don’t know if I would be pushed to do the same thing if you or uncle got hurt. I thought that… I didn’t have the right to judge these people for their crimes! I was just… In over my head. I don’t know how anybody can do something like that.”

Akane stayed silent for the whole explanation, before shaking her head and turning away. “Shuichi, I get it’s tough, lil’ bro- and yes, maybe you do need some time off detective work to… You know… Ponder over existential musings, as you do. But this?” She gestured to the boxes around the room. “This is absurd, dude. It’s one thing to take some time off, but another to decide to abandon your passion, hobby and potential career. Do you want to live off of inheritance for the rest of your life? Using the very same money your parents obtained while they left the both of us here to rot?”

Shuichi held up a hand to his right temple. “No, that’s… The exact opposite of what I want. It’s just… I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a detective anymore.”

Akane stopped what she was doing and pierced Shuichi with a glare that could cut through stone. “Shuichi, you are cut out to be a detective, and I say that with 100% certainty. The very fact you did feel something and are contemplating your role in all of this is great- Because we need sympathetic people in those places so, like you said… We don’t point the gun at the wrong person and understand the consequences of our actions. But at the same time, I think what you did back there was entirely justified, and even though it might not mean much- If I died, there’s nobody else I’d want to try and find who did it. You’re brilliant, maybe hopelessly so, and the passion you show for the field is honestly stunning to me, and I’d be heartbroken if you actually went through with all this.”

Shuichi offered a somber smile in response. “It does feel… Good to have a #1 fan.”

Akane retrieved a poster from a box, beginning to tack it to a wall before realizing something. “...She looks a lot like Kyoko, doesn’t she?”

The poster was an action shot of a female detective… With lavender hair. She did have a notably different hairstyle than the real thing and Shuichi never thought he’d see her helping her girlfriend to line up a shot from a handgun, though.

“Oh, well… That’s a character who is more or less inspired by her. Toko Fukawa took a break from her critically-acclaimed romance novels to write something focusing a little more on mystery and action, and… Well, you know that’s right up my alley. She did get a lot of praise for the main character being a lesbian without it being a huge part of her character, though. It got released during pride month a while ago.”

“Huh. That’s pretty cool. Speaking of relationships…” Akane wiggled her eyebrows.

Shuichi frowned slightly. “Yeah, my opinion still hasn’t changed. I’m not really… Thinking about that. I think somebody extraordinarily special would have to come along before I even start to consider it… I just can’t see myself in a relationship with any girl… Or guy, for that matter.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve caught you looking up my skirt a few times.”

As Shuichi’s face flared, she laughed. “Im messing with you, of course! Alright, well- How about we do a little bit more to this room than just set everything up again, huh? I think it could use a new paint job.”

The two went on their way- That is to say, Akane went on her way and dragged the morose Shuichi with her. But… It wasn’t bad, honestly. She was right that he needed to leave the house and get over himself- Even if he wasn’t quite ready to try his hand at being a detective, and never knew if he would be.

After few days of darting around to paint and hardware stores, Akane finally changing out of her maid uniform to paint (Shuichi guessed it potentially getting ruined was the only reasonable situation that she’d wear something else in the house) and finally painting the room, the two were able to look back and admire their handiwork. Akane definitely had better taste in color choice and composition, yet her taste was a bit eclectic and needed some reigning in by Shuichi as well as a few new ideas.

On one of their last treks outside to grab a few things they needed for the new furniture they’d be putting into what used to be a fairly morose room, Shuichi had to go through one of the things he hated the most- Wandering through the incredibly empty house his parents were only ever in a few times a year.

Despite having an entire house to himself, Shuichi was largely resigned to his room- Even back when he was in better spirits. Despite it feeling not quite full, his room at least felt lived-in… Which wasn’t the case for the rest of the place besides the kitchen and living room, which were the only two places Akane and him frequented with any regularity. Everything else simply felt more like a hotel than an actual home, and it was also a constant reminder of the absence of anyone else for him except Akane.

Although he was grateful to have her, it still stung that his parents thought that by hiring a maid around his age they could make up for being out so much... It was thoughtful, perhaps in a twisted sort of way. At least he had his uncle.

Upon seeing Shuichi pause in the massive, yet void entry room, Akane sighed. “Thinking about them again, huh?”

“I…” Shuichi sighed and stared at the ground. “How can I not? I’ve spent more time with characters in some of my novels than them. And this…” He gestured around the room. “It's such a waste. All this money and luxury… When they’re never even here to appreciate it.”

Akane shrugged “Well, I don’t know… Maybe they wanted to give you something nice while they were gone most of the time?”

“I know you’re just pulling at straws here, now.”

“Well, of course I am! It’s not like i’m going to spend too much time shitting on your parents when they’re the ones who hired me and let me get to know you in the first place. But… For what it’s worth…” She gave Shuichi a bittersweet smile like the beauty in a thunderstorm. “Yeah, they are pretty shitty people. I think you’d be doing a lot better right now if you had someone to console you besides me, because god knows i'm terrible at it.”

Shuichi chuckled. “Give yourself some more credit- You did get me up and doing something productive these last few days.”

“Yeah, dragging me behind you all the way.” She rolled her eyes. “Now, are we going out to get those beanbags, or what?”

“Yeah… let’s go.”

It was a wet and dreary night outside, and from where they’d park it was only a short, but miserable walk through the rain as each of them stood under their own umbrellas side by side.

It happened so fast- there was a figure, like a blur of black lightning with red eyes that bore through him. Akane reacted first, while Shuichi was too dumbstruck to realize what was going on- A shout and an accusation in just a few short seconds, and before he knew it, he was standing over the crumpled form of his friend. 

It had all been so fast. Had he heard a gunshot? He certainly didn’t think he had, but he wasn’t exactly in the most lucid state right now, either. The phantom-like figure standing across from him was holding something vaguely firearm-shaped… But slightly wrong, too boxy and the wrong proportions.

But far more important to remember was the attacker- He at least understood that in his confused state. They were mostly obscured by the night and rain, along with their choice in clothing… But what stood out amidst the oily torrents of black that clouded over them was the two unrelenting red pinpricks of eyes chasing him down, cornering him mentally as well as physically- And the matching red hood and cloak over their shoulders, soaked by the walls of rain trapping both of them there.

The two had a bit of a stare down- Former detective and assassin, where Shuichi shook but did not cower, trembled but did not run. After all, he’d rather see whomever killed him in the act. And it seemed like it’d be that way- As she raised her weapon, whatever it was.

Of course, the weavers spin their gold threads of fate in mysterious ways, and so it was that the next few seconds, so impactful even in their brevity, didn’t go quite as Shuichi would’ve thought they might’ve. There was a brief sting of pain and a sudden rush of the weariness he’d been feeling for weeks now… But as the red-hooded spirit closed upon him, something came to his rescue. All he could remember was a streak of raven black and the shining of steel, along with the very vivid symbol of a howling wolf. It was as if the Morrigan herself had rushed to his aid- and with the few moments he had until unconsciousness, he didn’t have much time to gather evidence to the contrary.

The world spun away, like it was dissolving away in water, and he fell, tumbling down into the dreary, dream-spoked cold.

In his dreams, the young truth-seeker held a sword of fire that scorched his hands whilst a voice ominously mocked him from the shadows- Yet he still held on tight, even as tears crept down his face from the pain.

* * *

  
Shuichi wasn’t much of a drinker, despite being of age: he’d prefer to keep his wits about him, however compromised they may be at times. That being said, as was often the case for college students- poor decision making and a hefty smattering of peer pressure had forced his hand on occasion, letting him experience the wonderful sensation that was a hangover.

And the egregious profusion of truly atrocious symptoms could best be compared to a particularly bad one. The same headache best compared to your head being mistaken for concrete and a jackhammer being used on it- as well as the feeling of the world acting frivolously with its rules, spinning and twisting the lights to be painfully bright.

For a moment, he almost wondered if the terrible events he remembered were just an alcohol-induced nightmare- After all, he was resting comfortably (Or as comfortably as one could given his current affliction) in his own bed, rather than dead, in a hospital bed, or kidnapped.

But then the weight of the world came crashing down upon atlas once again in full force, causing the land under his feet to fracture.

On his nightstand was something of a care package- Some aspirin, a bottle of some foreign soda by the name of mezzo mix- a cola and orange hybrid whose labeling was mostly in German-(An odd choice, but okay…) a small note, and lastly a snub-nosed revolver with a box of cartridges laying right next to it.

Blinking with rapidly escalating dread (Although Shuichi could see Akane leaving him the first two, the last was simply concerning) he retrieved the note and scanned it quickly.

“From Geri & Freki-  
Proceed with caution. Enemies targeting you.  
She’s gone. I’m sorry I couldn’t help, for as little as it’s worth.  
It’s your choice to blaze the path of truth or shroud yourself in security. The path ahead is full of thorns.  
Take good care of snubbers. She’s seen me through much, and will for you as well.  
I cannot help you again.  
Good luck, and let the allfather bless you.”

At the bottom of the small piece of handwritten notebook paper was a drawing of a wolf howling at the moon, with detailed shaggy fur and gleaming fangs- Whoever drew it must have been an artist. Or… Maybe just good at drawing wolves.

Shuichi tensed up, crumpling the paper accidentally as he tightened his hands into fists- sucking in labored breaths as he closed his eyes tightly. She was gone… The regret and grief was piling on like heavy earth over a casket. Tremors of tectonic activity fought through his body, and he fell back into the bed and cried out in frustration.

Even as he sat there, lingering melancholy fluttering down into his psyche after the initial bout of frustration, he still had no tears. Maybe the full landslide of irreversible sadness had not yet dawned… Perhaps overshadowed by the many questions sprouted from his circumstances, or… The fact that he now had a job to do.

One last case- One last murder case, no less. And his often blabbering intuition informed him that he was both thoroughly over his head- This wouldn’t be any usual homicide.

But what choice had he but to trudge forward, no matter how the mire of emotional torment and circumstance may impede him? This was no longer about him… It was about her.

As the first order of business Shuichi tentatively handled the revolver with shaking hands, inspecting it thoroughly. It certainly was well-used, as the note had suggested- But also well maintained. The ivory grip was well worn with various scratch-marks and streaks- Although Shuichi shuddered a bit when he noticed nearly two dozen tally marks carved into one side of it, while the other had an engraving of a cute wolf pup. Looking more closely, markings on the tiny barrel suggested a silencer had been screwed onto it many times.

Shaking his head, Shuichi was both perplexed and worried about the actions of his savior- Not only had they protected him from a potentially lethal attack, they had apparently driven him back to his house in his own car (As indicated by the presence of his keys on the nightstand) and then left him a weapon… It dawned on him how extraordinarily defenseless he had been and still was, and he was grateful for the pistol even if he was hesitant to hold, much less fire it.

It dawned on him that the weapon was probably unregistered and untraceable, along with being a murder weapon in several cases- which meant he was both carrying an illegal weapon and obscuring evidence at the same time. At the very least he had the license to carry the thing- He’d been trained in handgun usage back when he still planned to be someone who specialized in homicide cases and naturally needed a way to defend themselves, but he’d put off buying one because of his natural aversion to the things (And it’s not like he planned to continue his career in detective work any further, regardless) But at the same time, handing the thing in would both leave him vulnerable again- And he’d have the explain the thoroughly unlikely story of how he came upon the thing, so he decided against it.

Just one of the many unfortunate things to add onto the overflowing mound.

Quickly taking an aspirin with the soda (It was quite good, actually) he loaded the revolver and stuffed both it and the extra cartridges into a satchel, before checking his phone.

8 hours since he and Akane went out shopping- Figures that the only time he’d sleep well as of late was when he was forcibly knocked out. Actually… On that thought, how exactly did he lose consciousness?

He supposed it could have been blunt force trauma, of course- Not that there was anything in his memory that would indicate he’d been struck… And for that matter, even if he did feel like his head had been cracked open, nothing on his head was sore or injured save for the headache itself.

Then, there was the possibility of having been drugged, which was fairly likely. It would have probably have to have been his savior doing the drugging, which made sense for someone fairly unscrupulous: even if they went to great lengths to assist him, they probably didn’t want a detective to see their face.

And finally- and thankfully, most unlikely- was the possibility that he simply fainted due to his wet noodle disposition. He supposed exploring all of the options never hurt anything… Well, except his pride, that is.

It was something he’d have to explore further once he actually got to the crime scene, but the first step was getting there.

Working through a shower and basic hygiene as quickly as he could, he dressed in his usual, more formal outfit he liked to wear while on the case- Before grabbing his satchel and heading out.

Shuichi had only truly been involved in one major crime scene before, so naturally the experience of being near another in person, and no less one he was personally very involved in was both exhilarating and disparaging, the same high yet sinking feeling in your gut when you reach the precipice of a coaster. He truly was in one of his crime novels… The rain, yellow tape, chalk outline and evidence markers, although the body was gone: likely having been moved hours before.

Then there was the human component: the buzzing sycophantic press, the chatter of muted professionals and clicking of cameras. As he approached the police line, he was stopped.

“Shuichi Saihara. Detective.” He held up his badge, causing a look of slight surprise from the officer in front of him- Which was quickly reigned in.

“I’m sorry sir, but you’re not assigned to this case.”

“Please, I-“ Shuichi began, before being cut off by a voice he’d heard only in videos before.

“Let him in.”

Kyoko Kirgiri stood behind the officer and past the police line, clad in a fashionable coat to keep the ever-insistent sheets of rain off her. In person, her eyes were uncanny- Searching, scanning, piercing, like she could peel back the layers of your skin and see what was beneath.

“Ah! Miss Kirigiri!” Even the police officer had an unusual reaction to her- Something between fear and respect. “But, he’s…”

She tilted her head and stared with a look of slight annoyance. “Are you implying I would allow somebody to tamper with evidence while I’m watching them?”

“Err… No ma’am.”

“Good. Then let him in- I could use some help.”

As the officer stepped out of the way and held the tape up, Shuichi blinked in confusion before moving forward and following after Kyoko as she moved deeper into the scene.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked, confusion bubbling up.

She glanced over, scanning him with that piercing look that caused him to shiver- Or maybe it was just the rain. “The same I said to him. There’s no reason for you not to, and I’d rather have help then not. If I thought you weren’t capable, I wouldn’t have bothered.” She took a large sip from her thermos, which Shuichi assumed was probably filled with black coffee. It was in the early hours of the morning, after all.

“You… Think I’m capable?” Now there was the last thing he’d thought someone like Kyoko would say to him.

“Detectives our age don’t exactly grow on trees. The fact you’ve made it this far means you’re plenty qualified to be in this crime scene.”

“But I’ve… Only solved one homicide case.”

Kyoko crossed her arms. “Being too humble is a pitfall like any other. When I judge someone’s efficacy, it is not the outcome, but the method which I value. I’ve seen your method- It is thorough and completes the task at hand using little resources. From my judgement, it wouldn’t matter what the case was as long as you had the proper tools at hand.”

“That’s… I’m honored, really. But… You do know I’m personally involved in this case, right? I’m grateful, but… I don’t want to get you into trouble for doing something you shouldn’t have.”

Kyoko nodded slightly in agreement. “Yes, although your name did come up early as a potential suspect, your motives to do so would be quite limited. Even so I would have barred access for you, but you do have an alibi.”

“Wait… I have an alibi?” Shuichi exclaimed in confusion with perhaps a bit too much clarity.

“Around the estimated time of death corroborated by witness reports of gunshots, you were photographed someplace else entirely. We’ve also made sure that it’s highly unlikely the photographer in question had any relation to this case.” As she spoke, she reached into her own bag and retrieved a small Manila envelope, which was quickly dotted by a few raindrops. From within, she retrieved a photograph-

Although Shuichi was lucky and relieved to have an alibi (He would’ve suspected himself if he were in her position, after all) The picture wasn’t… Flattering. It seemed to be a zoomed-in shot of him in the background of what was actually the subject of the picture, with his face smushed up against the window of his car, fast asleep from what was probably a drug-induced slumber. Clearly his savior didn’t seem to treat him lightly while he was asleep.

Shuichi stared for a moment at it with an expression of thorough fatigue- wondering how many times his already fragile self-esteem would be further abused today- while he swore Kyoko’s lips turned up just the slightest bit in amusement. But in an instant, his mind caught up to him and his face turned to one of sudden concern, as if a flash-flood of inspiration had set over him.

“Wait, did you say gunshots?” Questioned Shuichi, remembering in a somewhat clouded manner the lack of perceived gunshots and odd weapon of the culprit.

“Indeed. The murder weapon is reasoned to be a normal 9mm handgun, given that the victim was riddled with at least a dozen rounds- It seems the culprit decided to empty an entire magazine into them.”

“And… When was the time of the crime?” Shuichi asked, hanging onto every word.

As she told him, he realized that it was thoroughly off when he had experienced the event, which promptly caused possibilities to explode into razor-edged shrapnel within his mind. Not only did that give the culprit a full-length window to tamper with the facts of the case, and was the reason he even had a thorough alibi in the first place- But it also may have meant that Akane was still alive. Wincing at the possibility, he decided that it was probably better if he just accepted there was nothing he could’ve done regardless and not think over it too much.

“And there were eyewitness accounts?” This is where the answer really mattered: if there were any other sort of reliable witnesses, his already unlikely account would be rendered pure madness.

“Not exactly.” She responded, combing a hand through her hair. “Audio only, from nearby citizens. We have no direct visual accounts.” Now that was a relief. It meant his supposed witness testimony could be regarded with only a smidgen of credibility instead of none.

“I… Umm…” Shuichi thumbed through all the words at his disposal, as the way he phrased something this ridiculous was very important.”What if I told you I was at the scene of the crime?”

Kyoko regarded him with a no-nonsense, unabashedly intolerant look. “You are aware that if what you are going to say is true, it would refute your alibi.”

“...Yeah…” Shuichi answered slowly, suddenly back doubts himself.

She raised an eyebrow. “And that given what we already know, anything you say would imply most of what we know so far was fabricated.”

“...Yes.” Shuichi answered, even more hesitantly.

She shook her head- But this time, he was absolutely sure that she was smiling, however slightly- It seemed like a rare and beautiful thing, as if a shimmering butterfly had darted amongst the dreary flood of rain. “Let’s hear it then.” She said, the smile gone as soon as it had appeared. 

Shuichi explained his account best he could, leaving out a few details (Most notably, the illegal weapon he had been gifted and was now carrying) While Kyoko regarded him with a mix of skepticism and amusement- And some small fragment of admiration he thought he saw for his brazen disregard for the implications of his testimony.

But it all soon melted back into the familiar mask as cold as the black flow of rain around them. “You must understand that there are several glaring inconsistencies, not just when other facts are taken into consideration- But simply within your statements themselves. And as such, I’ve chosen to disregard it.”

“Yeah, I Uh… Figured.” He answered sheepishly, making sure to adjust his brim to block out her eyes.

“...That being said.” She continued fluidly “Most witnesses who came to me with such frivolity I would assume were either intoxicated to some degree, lying, or misremembered the events - But given your history, I choose to believe the first two are about as unlikely for you as your story, so I’ll keep what you’ve said in the back of my mind, and you yourself should contemplate future evidence with your account in mind. Particularly, your claim about the culprit’s red outerwear intrigues me.”

Shuichi rested a few fingers on his chin in contemplation. “Why? Is there something significant about that detail?”

“It’s something of a common trend between otherwise unrelated cases.” She answered succinctly. “The fact you mentioned it does draw some credibility to what you said, since I doubt a liar would insert it without prior knowledge I don’t think you have.”

“And- After claiming I was there and acknowledging it to some extent, your suspicion of me hasn’t increased?”

“Certainly not as a culprit. As for an accomplice- I don’t see how what you said would’ve helped out a potential culprit in any regard, nothing to be said of your motives. Besides, one of the reasons I find what you said to be unbelievable is the timing involved for such a thing to be true.”

“What do you mean?”

Kyoko retrieved an overhead diorama from the envelope, marking on it for example. “If your vehicle was here and the scene of the incident here-“ She marked each of the locations. “Even with extra time, the timing simply doesn’t make sense, given your athletic abilities.”

Shuichi sighed- There was yet another hit to his dainty and fragile ego.

“And that’s not even considering someone carrying you.” She crossed her arms. “They would have to be a world-renown athlete, or a superhuman.”

“A… Superhuman.” Shuichi parroted, his mouth suddenly growing dry. Just what kind of person was this “Geri and Freki” who had rescued him? Skilled in combat, athletic, clearly dangerous and criminal… The implications of someone like that taking an interest in him were troubling, especially since they didn’t seem the type to involve themselves out of charity. Just what had he stumbled into?

“Indeed. Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to break away from the outlandish possibilities for a while and focus our efforts on the known facts and their implications.”

After that, the two worked surprisingly well in tandem to unravel the spindly sticky threads of this spiderweb of a mystery, even if Shuichi had the suspicion they were simply caught and waiting for the black widow to devour them. Despite that, and the rumblings of melancholy that clung to him still… He managed to enjoy himself, reveling in the familiar comfort of accounts, facts and their implications.

They worked through the murder weapon, witnesses- including a few accounts that were slightly unrelated but could become relevant in the future-, as well as the various basic facts. As they continued on, Shuichi realized just how much fabrication would be needed to set up events as he described them.

But there was one thing that was bothering him- The body. And when he asked about it, Kyoko nodded in agreement. “Although I’ve already seen it, I would like to review it again as well. Are you sure you’d be able to put your personal situation aside upon seeing her, Shuichi?”

“Shuichi?” He asked, surprised at her sudden informality. “And… I think I’ll be fine.” He certainly didn’t want to break down in front of her.

She shrugged in response. “Good. And I simply don’t see any point in needlessly using one another’s last names. We’re the same age, and I would rather I be called by the name that is mine, rather than the one that is connected to my mother, and…” Her eyes sharpened slightly “Father.”

She began to walk away with much further explanation, waving to prompt him to follow. “We’d best use our time wisely- I can drive us to the morgue in no time at all.”

“Drive us?”

“There’s no reason to go in separate vehicles when we’re going to the place and both returning. Come on.” 

Shuichi obediently followed, although not with some large amount of hesitation- Which immediately spiked after seeing what Kyoko had driven here on.

A motorbike, although one that was modern and sleek, with a dark purple exterior. It certainly fit her, but… 

“Do you really expect me to…” He began, only to be shut down by an irritated look from Kyoko that answered his question fairly well, and all without the need to exchange words. She retrieved a helmet and donned it, along with handing one for him as well.

“Take it. I don’t want to be the reason such a brilliant mind goes to waste.” She said stiffly.

Shuichi constantly felt he was subject to mood whiplash while around Kyoko. The compliments, quickly followed by reminders of the situation or dismissals of him or his ideas. It wasn’t bad, but… Confusing. Above all else, she was confusing, but perhaps that’s just the nature of someone when you can’t rely on usually evident social cues.

He accepted the helmet and fitted it on his head, getting on the bike behind Kyoko- And in a few moments and the whirr of a quiet engine, they were off.

It occurred to him the thoughts any normal adolescent male would be having while clinging to an attractive female, and the significant lack of those thoughts he was experiencing. Instead, in its place there was the ever-insistent gnawing of what had occurred over the past few days and months… The reverb as questions and facts bounced wildly within his skull.

He was fairly sure Kyoko was speeding, which surprised him- he’d think that out of anyone she’d be a staunch rule-follower, and yet here she was breaking the law- If only slightly. Perhaps it put into perspective that she wasn’t some paragon of logic and detective work and could still make questionable calls like any other, but perhaps it was also that she might’ve had no fear of consequences for her actions, given how the last officer had treated her.

Regardless, they reached the morgue in no time, and this was the part Shuichi hated.

Not just because it was someone he cared deeply about that he was going to be seeing… Although that was certainly part of it. No, maybe he just hadn’t worked up the tolerance for the place… Like a hospital in everything, but so wrong. He felt unwelcome, as if the dead were passively urging outsiders to flee.

Kyoko, on the other hand, strolled into the place with not an ounce of hesitancy, as comfortable as if she were in her own home rather than a place for the dead. With what he’d read on her accomplishments, he supposed it may as well have been a second home of sorts, with how often she’d been here.

The receptionist only seemed to enforce his theory, as she greeted Kyoko with the kind of familiarity as if this were an everyday occurrence. “Hello, Miss Kirigiri! What will it be for you today?” She said, sounding more like a waitress than a psychopomp of sorts.

“I’d like to see the deceased Akane Tiara.” Kyoko answered with brevity.

The receptionist nodded and quickly listed off where they’d need to go, before tilting her head and looking over a Shuichi with a look of confusion- Before he realized they’d been in contact briefly in his first, and only murder case.

“Oh! Mr. Saihara. Decided to get back into detective work again, huh?”

This prompted a long, searching gaze from Kyoko- But she said nothing at that moment. 

“Err.. Yeah.” He answered awkwardly.

“Well, that’s just great- You really did an excellent job on that Kimura case, since even wizened adults couldn’t crack it. Good luck to you two! It’s always great to see so many young detectives around here.”

With that, the two walked deeper into the house of the dead… All the while, Shuichi felt Kyoko’s boring gaze on him.

“You gave up detective work for a while?” She asked somewhat accusingly.

“It’s… Not something I’d like to talk about right now.” Answered Shuichi, deciding that the last thing he wanted to do was discuss his motives with a legendary detective who was known for being immune to emotional tampering.

“...” Kyoko seemed like she had something else to say, but held herself back. “Understandable.”

Creeping into the freezer room filled with bodies, Shuichi couldn’t help but feel a certain kind of dread crawling around his mind and picking at his ganglia. It wasn’t like he wanted to see the body of one of his best friends- Hell, he’d been nauseous for hours after seeing his first dead body in general. But it had to be done. It wasn’t about him anymore. 

Kyoko pulled the sheet-covered body out of its receptacle, and a certain… Paranoia set over Shuichi. A very real feeling of unease, just staring at the bumps in the sheet that constituted a person.

Kyoko seemed to notice immediately. “I thought you’d be more used to this.”

Shuichi covered his mouth with his hand. “No, it’s just, even the first time… I didn’t feel anything like this. It’s sort of like… A twisted version of deja vu, wrapped up in nightshade.”

Kyoko blinked, and for the first time, there was a tiny little onyx shard of doubt splitting her indomitable facade. It seemed his observations were contagious… He wasn’t really sure if he liked it.

After a few moments of unnatural and tense silence even between the untalkative pair, Shuichi noticed a few red drops falling onto the body cover- And glanced up to see Kyoko staring with a slightly blank look and a nosebleed.

“Kyoko… Are you alright?” 

In only an instant, she was back to her usual self, retrieving a napkin from her bag to dab the blood off her nose. “It’s a nosebleed, not a stab wound. I’ll be fine. Besides, we have a job to do.” But despite how she tried to hide it behind a shroud of lilac, Shuichi could still spot some underlying dread hidden there.

Shuichi put that thought aside for the moment- She was right in that they definitely had something to do. In all honesty, the sooner he got away before Kyoko, the better... He felt the odds of him embarrassing himself were increasing exponentially by the moment.

As Kyoko glanced at him with a questioning look, he mentally steeled himself as she slowly retracted the cover.

Shuichi felt a great and terrible flood of remorse at the loss of any life, much less a human… Or his friend. A flood so powerful it ravaged its way through the countryside of his mind, stopping even the most steadfast trains of thought to come to a screeching halt.

It was the silence that followed that was the most dreadful. In his mind so energetic and unbridled like a hornet’s nest nearly bursting at the seams- For a moment, there was nothing. No contemplation, no questions or answers. Simply the hollow sound the wind may make when it floats gently through a ghost town. It was frightening, and despite his loathing for his errant mind those moments of true silence were the most truly harrowing.

That was the greatest reason he wanted to become a detective- Before he even knew about his uncle or had read dozens upon dozens of cheap and gritty noir novels, encountering some roadkill, the realization of death… The loneliness of passing off into… Somewhere else. Would death just be another grand silence, a song spanning all eternity with only rests to its name?

Sometimes, he pitied rather than admired Kyoko. Just how much silence did she have to bear?

He’d gotten better at it, but seeing Akane’s beautiful face not drawn into some easy going smirk, and instead pale as moonlight was enough to settle him into a lapse of stillness. For her part Kyoko said nothing and gave him time, despite something probably showing on his face- He didn’t know if she was disappointed or not, at that moment.

Even so, just a little something cracked through the darkened orborous, revealing sunlight into Plato’s cave through the cracks. A tiny little detail, picked up by the corner of his mind not lost in itself. Did this mean he was improving, at least?

In an instant, his mind had reformatted itself. “Kyoko, you don’t see any scars on the torso, do you?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s… Strange.” He murmured, covering his mouth. “There should definitely be some scars there. Fairly evident ones too.”

“What’s your basis for believing that?”

“I, uhm… It was fairly personal for Akane, but I’ll just get over it and say it. She was attacked by a bear rather young, which left a fairly obvious impression of claws on the left side of her torso.”

“I don’t suppose you have any accounts of seeing that?” He couldn’t tell if she was intrigued or accusing… It was all the same when you couldn’t tell, he guessed.

“Even better. There’s a newspaper from around that time that has pictures of the injury in question.”

Her expression seemed just the slightest bit dour. “If you were to follow this train of thought to its natural conclusion, where would you get, Shuichi?”

“I, ummm… Yeah, you’re right. It is… Kind of stupid. This isn’t a novel, after all. With DNA evidence, pulling off a body switch is… Ridiculous. Besides, what reason would they have for doing something like that?”

The two exchanged one of their many awkward pauses, as Shuichi kept his eyes thoroughly trained on the ground. If he didn’t have anything relevant to say, why was he even here? He should probably just… Excuse himself.

“...” Kyoko’s voice strained slightly, as the largest hole in her armor yet exposed itself. It was… Different from the frustration or sadness before. It was something brighter, leaking through her voice in pale strands. “Shuichi, all I meant was to be considerate of the facts, not to dismiss them. The reason I let you into that crime scene is because I wanted a second opinion, not a minion who repeated my conclusions back to me. A key part of searching out the truth is holding sound in your own deductions, no matter how fickle- Or placing some shard of your faith into a string of consequences that seem too unreasonable to be true. I’m not saying you should abandon all logic to the wind- But logic and truth have an unusual relationship where one contradicts the other.” He felt like she spoke that last part from experience.

“So chase after your lead, alright? You know I'll be back here to follow the route I would have anyways.” Reaching into her bag again, she retrieved two things- A piece of paper with a phone number, and a plastic baggie with a small bit of black hair inside.

“I can't let you back onto the crime scene with any good faith under the slightest possibility you’re an accomplice and you might mess with evidence while i’m not watching you- Same goes for any kind of DNA testing. But all the same, I'm willing to hear what you have to say in this case, if you find anything even without those advantages. You can call me at any time- I won’t guarantee i’ll answer, but if there’s a message from your phone number I will listen. As for the piece of hair… If you find a way to DNA test it, go ahead.”

She wasn’t even making an attempt to hide her smile now. “I trust my logic: And my logic has led me to the fact that you’re capable. At the very least, try to succeed for the sake of not disappointing me.”

Shuichi’s story to Kaede in the present continued, of course. But this chapter, unfortunately, will not. In other words…

To be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benefit of compromising to split this chapter in half: I get plenty of end note space to talk about all the things that I did in this chapter.
> 
> Let's start off with the most pressing concern: Who in the hell is Akane Tiara? Well, she's an SDRA character, which as you may expect is the precursor to SDRA2. I'm not including any other characters from SDRA because they're fairly bland, but i'm making an exception here... The few people who have watched through SDRA2 will know, but for the rest of you I wont spoil it. As with every other character here, sprite sheets can be found online.
> 
> The next thing i'd like to talk about is the things Shuichi is interested in. I think giving characters hobbies, even if they are still related to their talents, is a great way to see them more as people, since not everyone spends all their time doing one thing, obviously- Even someone like Kyoko. It's the reason I implemented her fondness for lockpicking, although part of it was just my general obsession with locksport even though I don't personally do it myself.
> 
> Even if Shuichi's love of detective and mystery fiction is related directly to his talent, it is mentioned directly in canon- And I love having the ability to tie Shuichi to pregame Shuichi, who seemed to be a huge nerd and was probably obsessed with Kyoko. This Shuichi isn't obsessed, but definitely does see her as a role model (As he mentions to Kaede) And equally shares pregame Shuichi's nerdiness. I believe there's a fairly popular image floating around with pregame Shuichi and a bunch of DR merch, including a lot of Kyoko stuff.
> 
> Similarly, I think the act of seeing someone reject their hobbies and interest like Shuichi almost did at the beginning of this chapter is both saddening and in-character, due to his general disgust with himself and his own skills after the incident he mentioned with Kaede. Speaking of Kaede, I'd like to say that even though Kaede did a fairly similar pep-talk to the one she did in V3 at the beginning of this chapter, along with smaller pep talks from Akane and Kyoko- He still hasn't broken out of his shell yet, which I attribute to not being in a life-threatening situation or having Kaede executed in front of him with her dying wish pressed upon him. Don't worry though, it will come eventually... And from a variety of characters, just like in V3.
> 
> As for Kyoko, I won't go into too much detail on her thought process since it's only guesswork from Shuchi and we don't actually know what's going on in her head, but I do love the idea of her being supportive of Shuichi yet still very critical, due to his emotional nature- And more specifically his doubt, which she probably is aggravated by most of all. This kind of puts her into a weird area where she wants to be supportive, but due to Kyoko things often comes off as disparaging instead.
> 
> I definitely got the feeling this one got on a bit too long, especially during some of the crime scene parts, but since the mystery (Even though you all know the killer by now) is so integral to the overarching plot i'm going for It cant really be helped, besides some scenes were just too cool not to include (Like Kyoko having a motorbike, a common trend among badass females I write...) Even though i'm more publishing these chapters more for myself right now because this hasn't gotten much attention, I did felt the need to get this out soonish, only if to bump up the fic.
> 
> Other things... Oh, yes! Iroha will get actual usage besides just an introduction in the second part. And i'm getting to the notes on the last chapter... Soon. Maybe right after this, but it *is* fairly late.


	7. Touch-Tone Telephone (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi's recount of the unusual set of circumstances that led him to this point finishes, before he sets off to talk to Kyoko again, and meets a few bizarre individuals..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took wayyy too long. But hey, its out there! Thoughts in the bottom notes, and I always love comments.

After Shuichi’s awkward, and in some senses enlightening conversation with Kyoko, they spent the rest of their time before parting ways in relative silence. She even refused to elaborate further about what she’d said… Leading Shuichi to think himself half to death yet again.

At the very least, what surprised himself was that her support was completely void of the pity he usually got from such remarks- Even a little bit from Akane. It seemed the concept simply didn’t apply to her… Which probably contributed to her excellent detective work. 

Regardless of all of that, he was back home… A home even emptier than the usual. And with the blessing of a much greater detective than himself… He tacked a picture of himself and Akane to a bulletin board on his wall, racks and red string at the ready to uncover the less likely path of this mystery.

There were questions, like always. Motive? Was a body switch really possible? What about his rescuer? But he decided to begin with the unusual detail Kyoko had pointed out: The red hood.

It was difficult, of course- Having to conduct an investigation like this without having access to an extensive police database. But at the same time, it did have an advantage, no matter how slight… While he could trust Kyoko to work out anything from that angle, his search over the internet led him to information that at first seemed irrelevant… But that he followed regardless.

Red hoods were associated with the goddess nemesis in Ancient Greece and Rome, worn by her acolytes and used in murders instigated on the basis of retribution. Even after the fall of Rome, small groups of red-hooded anarchists often opposed feudal tyranny- In some tellings, even Robin Hood had a red cloak. Popular folk tales like red riding hood centered around a malicious evil being punished for their deeds.

Shuichi printed out pictures of the goddess and some of the various incarnations of the trend on the wall to remind himself, before searching for connected murders to corroborate his findings.

Surely enough, the vast majority of murders connected to a red-hooded murderer (Or assassin, as they were sometimes outright called) Were related directly to revenge- And revenge over things visible to the public eye, as well. In one case, a singer who had shoved down a rival through less than scrupulous means was similarly silenced in an illegal fashion- In another, an athlete who won in a competition using steroids was sighted being stabbed by a lean red-hooded figure before any help could be received. Although it was progress, it naturally caused a pressing question to rise from the depths like a slithering beast.

Was Akane actually related to any potential revenge? It was certainly possible there was something more discreet that he couldn’t find easily from news reports… But that didn’t fit with the other cases whose motives were almost blatantly obvious. The only real mention of her in press at all besides the murder itself was the incident with the bear in her childhood.

As Shuichi sat perplexed in front of the collected strings of pictures and articles, frustration thrashing within him uncontrollably… Something dawned to him.

The target didn’t necessarily need to be her. After all, there was someone else who just happened to be there at the time.

Someone who just so happened to have a very notable grudge against them. 

The realization was as grueling as thorns all over his heart slowly sinking in. To not only know he could have done nothing- But he was the inadvertent cause, as well.

Like always, there was the temptation to throw in the towel… Perhaps more viciously vocal now than ever.

But the difference was that he was not even close to being alone… Even if his two supporters weren’t here with him. The doubt and resignation to defeat weren’t dismissed… But he worked through it despite the futility and dread, like Sisyphus pushing his boulder. He knew that if Akane were here, she’d tell him to get on his feet and stop moping- To avenge her. And if Kyoko were, she’d shake her head and tell him to ignore those voices in his head and blaze ahead after the truth.

Besides, it was only a theory- A theory he needed to prove by asking the one person who had sent him spiraling into self-doubt in the first place… Someone he honestly had hoped he would never see again.

But first, he needed to make a call. Picking up his phone, he retrieved a small piece of paper and typed in the number.

After a few moments of ringing, it went to voicemail. 

“You’ve reached Kyoko Kirigiri’s number, professional detective.” The phone played back her unwavering and enigmatic voice. “If you’re calling this number to make threats of any kind in an attempt to hinder my investigation, know that I will find out who you are, regardless of any measures you make.” He wondered if that happened often… “For any other queries, please be brief- I would prefer that neither of our time is wasted.”

Awkwardly clearing his throat, Shuichi shakily spoke into the receiver. “Hey, Kyoko… It’s, ummm… Shuichi. But you probably already guessed that.” His mind insistently reminded him that Kyoko had literally just said to be terse… And yet here he was. It wasn’t like his already poor social skills benefitted from having a one-sided conversation.

“I found some things that you might find useful- Red hoods are connected to revenge, and most of the cases I could find related to them were about revenge as well. I think I was actually the intended victim- I’m… Going to try and confirm that soon. Sorry about calling you about something you already knew. Just… Call me back. If you feel like you need to, that is…”

Shuichi hung up, sighing. If he had that much trouble just leaving a voicemail, how would he approach the person whose life he ruined?

The drive to the prison was an uneventful, yet grueling one. Simply the anticipation of having to confront him, especially with an accusation was possibly worse than the act itself. After all, the possibilities in his mind could be infinitely more terrible than reality.

When he arrived, he moved through the prison quickly- Getting authorized for a visit on the basis he’d been the lead on the case that had gotten him locked up in the first place.

Mr. Kimura was waiting for him when he arrived in the visiting area. Even after months of time, the fiery coals of his eyes hadn’t been quenched… A flaring black and red swirl of heat that lashed and licked at Shuichi’s conscience. A look of hatred… Of pure malcontent and need for revenge as if taken from Nemesis herself.

Shuichi was paralyzed in his chair. Unlike the silence he felt with death, now his head was bubbling over with thoughts… And guilt. He managed to grasp a sliver of control from the frothing maw of emotions in his mind, but both his voice and body were shaking from the contained pressure.

Mr. Kimura was probably in his 40’s or so- With gray-white hair not from age, but simply as a natural color. As with anybody the yellow prison uniform and lifestyle didn’t do him any favors… It was clear from the bags under his eyes and slightly sunken features his punishment wasn’t doing him any favors, naturally.

“Here to drum your morals into me again, boy detective?” The last time they had spoken was during an interview when Shuichi had first picked up on the suspicious aspects of his testimony- And the disparity between the polite man he’d talked to now and the utter disdain seeping from his words was huge. But still- The emotion he carried in his voice only was a small fraction of the malice in his eyes.

“I…” Now of all times, Shuichi felt completely justified in blocking out someone’s expression. “I just have… One question for you, sir. Nothing more to it than that… Not- An accusal, or any motives behind it besides wanting to know. Wanting to… Find the truth.”

“And why should I have any reason to answer you? You certainly never cared about the person on the end of your smoking gun.”

“Of course I know that!” Said Shuichi as he kicked the chair back and stood, thrusting his hands out for emphasis and speaking without thinking. “I know and have been thinking about what I’ve done every day for the past few months, and will continue to! I’ve lost all passion and purpose not only in detective work, but in my life- But this isn’t about passion or emotion! I have something I need to do, one last case I need to resolve, and even if it means confronting you I’ll do it!”

A silence yet still filled with crackling brimstone settled between the two, as Shuichi sucked in a long breath and sat down, the sadness finally cracking from him and spilling out as tears, which he did his best to cover up. God, if Kyoko could see him now…

“Then let’s hear it.” Shuichi couldn’t see Mr. Kimura’s expression anymore, but he could imagine. Still, his voice sounded just a bit more level…

“I….” Shuichi choked out, asking perhaps the hardest question in his life up to this point. “I really don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but… I need to know if you planned a hit on me. Trust me when I say I honestly don’t care whether you say yes or no besides knowing the answer… And I certainly won’t pursue action regardless of what you say.”

The silence gorged itself and grew to bursting proportions, but after a few moments he got a haggard “No”, somehow devoid of most of the anger held previously. 

Shuichi was jarred out of his thoughts from surprise. “Alright. I… I believe you. That… Does make this a lot harder for me, though- Especially when I don’t have access to any police resources.”

“You’re doing this off the grid for no pay?”

“I mean… Yeah. It… It was never really about the pay or prestige in the first place.”

“...” Shuichi caught a glimpse of a thoughtful expression from the prisoner- Still muffled in contempt, but present.

Eventually, Mr. Kimura sighed as something seemed to get the better of his disdain. “I’m not even close to forgiving you- But there is someone who might be able to get you access to the police’s DNA database, at the very least.”

Shuichi immediately perked up. “Really?”

“My daughter.” An undercurrent of sadness murmured within the man's words and Shuichi winced as he was once again reminded of the person’s life who he had ruined. “She’s worked with forensics on many occasions and should have access.”

Shuichi paled slightly. “She’s… Not going to hold a huge grudge, right?”

“...” It took Mr. Kimura a few moments to answer that. “She’s prone to anger, but if you appeal you should be fine. She’s not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Shuichi gave the best smile he could despite the circumstances. “I’ll go find her. And for how little it’s worth… Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

“...” The man remained quiet, but motioned for Shuichi to leave.

In all honesty, the meeting had gone better than Shuichi had expected. Granted he had broken down, and those eyes would certainly still haunt him for days to come… But he got what he came for and more, even if it did make his investigation that much more confusing. If this wasn’t about revenge on him, then what was it?

But before he thought further on that or met with Seiko Kimura, he had a call to make.

He dialed the familiar number, listened to another monotone message about death threats- Before starting off on an awkward tone yet again.

“Hey Kyoko… It’s Shuichi again. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve confirmed it wasn’t on the basis of revenge, which makes this… A whole lot more confusing, honestly. I know you’d tell me that I shouldn’t trust someone’s testimony right off the bat, but I honestly don’t think I have any right to doubt him after everything I’ve done.”

Shuichi knew he was probably being annoying by calling like this- But at the same time he didn’t want to give into that familiar fallacy that nobody wanted to hear what he had to say. “I’m going to get this strand of hair you gave to me checked. Call me… Call me back if you want to, okay?” And with that, he hung up.

Ever-sinking, almost submerged into the mire of his thoughts, Shuichi drove to the address of one Seiko Kimura, who lived alone…. Thanks to him. An old house on the edge of town, not in bad shape that had probably been renovated a few times. The lawn was uncared for and bursting with weeds, however… He imagined she probably didn’t get out much.

Thanks to him, most likely.

Steeling himself and packing all of his rambunctious thoughts in order, Shuichi mosied up to the door and clicked the doorbell.

One second. Two. The anticipation was always the worst. Three.

The door inches open a crack, purple eyes glaring with that all too familiar anger. A weapon was being pointed at him. 

A very familiar… Boxy weapon.

For once, Shuichi’s habit of thinking a thousand times a second came to favor him, as he stumbled backward and held up his hands. “W-w-wait! Please! Your dad sent me! I’m sorry!”

The person he assumed to be Seiko Kimura narrowed her vicious violet eyes, lowering the strange firearm Shuichi had seen once before. “You’re not just here to apologize- Am I right?”

“N-no.” Shuichi admitted. “Your dad said… You might have access to the DNA registry… And I um, don’t right now. Please, I’m begging you! This is really important to me.”

Seiko’s expression softened, before she sighed and opened the door fully. “Come on in then, I guess.”

Shuichi hesitantly stepped into the home… A place far more lived in than his own, yet nonetheless felt painfully empty, as if its heart were torn out in excruciating fashion. Family pictures and paintings on the walls of the hallway… Yet, everything was still rather clean, unlike the yard. He wondered if she had a maid, as well.

“Do you, umm… Keep the place tidy? It looks rather clean for a whole house that you live in by yourself.” It wasn’t exactly the most germane question, yet one his mind strong armed him into asking. 

“Not really- Both to cleaning and living alone.” She answered as the two moved toward a set of stairs. “I get one particular guest who sleeps here so often it’s her house as much as mine- She’s the one who does all the cleaning, much to my chagrin, and she’s my buddy in the lab too sometimes, even if I’m not supposed to really do potentially dangerous lab work without someone watching my back anyways. It got to the point where she was sleeping in a room so much that I just went out and had her pick out her own furniture, even if she was stuttering all the way saying I didn’t need to.”

Shuichi smiled sadly. “Sounds like you two are great friends.”

“Yes, w-well…” Seiko crossed her arms as she walked. “Don’t know why I’m telling all of this to one of my sworn enemies, honestly.”

“Sworn enemy, huh…” Shuichi murmured.

“Don’t take it the wrong way, you did ruin my life- And I’m never going to let you forget that.” She turned backward with a fiery violet blaze reminiscent of her father. “But, well... Perhaps I should tone down “Sworn Enemy” to “General Dislike”, honestly. You look like a kicked puppy and it’s really hard to hate you.”

Shuichi winced. “I guess I should be happy about that, but it’s not exactly flattering.”

Seiko nodded in muted agreement. “Yeah, I get… Similarly insulting observations a lot, too… But if there’s one thing I’ve been trying to beat into my head over the past couple of years it’s that you have to take what you’re given and run as far with it as you can.”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it…” Shuichi trailed off before a wandering thought occurred to him. “That, Erm… Weapon you had? Can I take a closer look?”

Seiko stared at him with abundant suspicion. “I hope you don’t mind that I want a reason why.”

“I, umm… Well, of course. It probably goes that I need to explain the whole story to you at some point, anyways.” As promised, Shuichi relayed the entire story to the masked medicine maker- Barring a few details, of course.

For her part, Seiko was a very good listener, and regarded what he said with not an ounce of skepticism despite the sheer audacity of some of his claims. When he finished, she shook her head. “If I were somebody different, I might be happy that you lost somebody close to you like I did. But honestly, I can’t bring myself to gain any sort of pleasure out of your suffering- And I don’t think this has anything to do with the kicked puppy thing. As for my design for a tranquilizer injector being used…” She paused, holding up the slightly blocky thing.

“You just had to bring that up again, didn’t you.” Shuichi said in slight exasperation.

“The way I see it, if I can’t bring myself to hate you- I at the very least can tease you relentlessly. But, getting back on topic, I made this design a while back for use mostly in veterinary or police applications. The problem with using tranquilizers so willy-nilly is that ideally you’d want to measure and change your dosage amount for any medicine- Especially something as drastic as this, but that simply isn’t an option in a high-pressure scenario where you’re potentially using it on a target you’ve never encountered before. This design fires special syringes that use varied dosage amounts by measuring the target’s state through muscle contractions, sidestepping that issue.”

Shuichi stared wide-eyed for a moment, expression frozen as he took time to contemplate the information dump he’d just heard. “Then… I don’t suppose you know how this design would’ve ended up in the hands of my attacker?”

“I do, actually.” Seiko admitted with some hesitation. “If I had just kept the design limited to some minor applications, it would’ve been fine, but… Unfortunately I needed the money, so I sold the patent off to much larger companies… Which ultimately led it to get into the hands of a pmc.”

Shuichi gasped. “A pmc? What, like- Fenrir?”

“I have my doubts that it was Fenrir who received my designs and subsequently attacked you… Since your savior was probably a member, due to all the wolf symbology associated with them.”

Shuichi pinched his nose and groaned. “I can’t believe that never occurred to me over the course of this entire investigation.” All of his swarming thoughts like voracious locusts, and not a single one picked up on that…

“Don’t beat yourself up over it too much, boy detective- As ridiculous as it is that you overlooked something so obvious, it happens to everyone… Especially me. I’m lucky to have Mikan around to stop me from messing up a reaction for the 50th time.”

Shuichi held a hand over his mouth. “That does lead me to an… Interesting, if not slightly frightening conclusion. A while back, there were murmurings about the leadership in Fenrir getting a fairly major change, which prompted a large portion of it to splinter off into an entirely different organization… I can’t help but wonder if I’ve somehow been caught in a pincer between those two halves.”

Seiko shook her head. “Leave it to both of us to somehow get ourselves involved in something so grand. Well, we can speculate later… But for now, let’s get into the lab.” The two headed down the stairs, to a small basement corridor with two doors, one of which had a table and several lab coats on hooks beside it.

Fitting one over herself in one fluid motion, she grabbed another and held it out for Shuichi. “You’ll need this.”

Shuichi stared for a moment. “We’re not going to be working with dangerous chemicals or anything, right?”

He couldn’t tell exactly because of her mask, but he got the feeling she had an expression of dogged annoyance. “No, but you’re going into a lab with dangerous chemicals regardless. My lab, my rules- I take safety very seriously.”

Shrugging, Shuichi put it on, before following Seiko into the room beyond.

It was… Certainly impressive for something built in a residential basement, that was for sure. Although Shuichi had only seen a few forensics labs and the chemistry lab in his college and high school, it certainly beat all of those by a significant margin- With stretching rows of pristine white counters, refrigerators with various labels racked onto them, and of course various safety implements like fume hoods, a shower and eyewash station.

There was another girl in the lab, though- Whose usually rather messy hair was spilled out was now tied behind her for lab safety. 

The slightly chubby girl with an uneven haircut squeaked and nearly dropped the vial she was holding when Shuichi entered.”Y-You’re Shuichi! I, um… I won’t hesitate to attack you if that’s what this comes to!” 

Shuichi stared with a thoroughly confused look, before looking over at Seiko- Who had shut her eyes, probably to help shield against secondhand embarrassment. “It’s… Fine, Mikan. We worked out our differences.”

Mikan started to sweat slightly. “Umm… Oh, I’m… So sorry.” She pleaded, arms placed as if she were praying for his approval. I can make it up to you! I can even-“

“It’s fine, really.” Shuichi cut her off, hoping to end the awkwardness so thick it could choke him. Even still, her… Very futile attempt to threaten him was cute. If Shuichi were a kicked puppy, then Mikan was a tiny puppy attempting to bare its fangs.

“He won’t be here for too long.” Seiko explained, wandering over next to Mikan and checking up on what she was doing- Before the two whispered some things back and forth that Shuichi hoped were just related to whatever he had interrupted. “Alright, then let’s see what you need me to read. I hope you know that I can’t just snap my fingers and get DNA out of something- It’ll take me a bit.”

“I at least know that much.” Shuichi said, before retrieving the plastic baggie with the lock of hair from his bag. “Here.”

Seiko looked it over for a moment, before nodding and getting to work. “Alright, I can work with this.”

“If you don’t mind me asking-“ Shuichi began hesitantly. “Why exactly do you have access to the DNA registry in the first place?”

“It’s not all that exciting, really.” She answered offhandedly while retrieving a few flasks of chemicals and a few machines from cupboards. “I think the police would rather they didn’t need to collaborate with me- And honestly, it does cause me a lot of anxiety when I have to interact with them. But I am one of the leading authorities on chemistry and pharmacy… Something I regret, sometimes. I’ve been working on a more efficient and consistent way to get DNA out of something like this-“ She held up the plastic baggie. “-Or even something with tiny amounts you wouldn’t be able to before. Naturally I need access to the system to do that, and a byproduct of my lab being in my house is, well… I need unrestricted access in my house.”

Shuichi smiled wearily. “That’s… Amazing, really. To think you’re more knowledgeable than adults twice your age.”

“W-well…” Mikan jumped into the conversation. “That’s actually been a point of research for some of the more… Psychologically focused aspects of the medical field. Specifically their own adolescent prodigies, Miaya and Kokoro… It’s really amazing how much prowess this generation is showing in all fields… Art, the sciences, athletics…”

“Well, at least for me, being a prodigy feels like a burden a lot of the time. People always ask you for this and that… Pulling you to do certain things, and not do others…” Shuichi finally realized what one of the subtle emotions he’d been picking up in Seiko’s speech since he met her was… It was exhaustion. The kind of tiredness that comes not from physical exertion, but mental and emotional strain. Even despite all the animosity she had for him… Shuichi felt a very real empathy, and he hoped that maybe he could work past what he’d done and become a sort of friend to her.

It only took a moment for a strange expression to cross Mikan’s face. “This is r-really a one person job, so… I-I’m going to go make lunch. Shuichi, you should come with.”

“Huh?” Before Shuichi could even begin to respond, he was pulled out of the room by a very forceful Mikan.

After they were outside the room and back into the basement hallway, Mikan removed both her own lab coat and Shuichi’s, before letting her hair down. “S-Sorry for dragging you out of there so suddenly… It’s just- Seiko kind of gets into these moods sometimes, and it’s best to just leave her to her thoughts for a while… You don’t, um, need to actually help me with lunch. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were sick of me…”

Shuichi reacted with perhaps the most vocal objection he had since his conversation with Mr. Kimura. “No! I don’t- I don’t really get why you’d assume that of me, honestly. I’m fine with helping you out: I’m actually not half bad, myself.” Years of Akane forcing him to help in meals was really the only reason he knew anything about cooking. Without Akane, he was fairly certain he’d subsist entirely off instant ramen like other college students. “Besides, I do owe you some explaining: I’m not really content with Seiko just telling you we’re good. I want you to know why someone who hurt her so much is suddenly here.”

Mikan frowned slightly. “You honestly believe in that?”

“Huh?”

She stared off to the side. “I-it’s nothing. Just…. Just that I’ve always been trying to get her to get over that. Her dad did a bad thing. He deserved to get punished.” She gave a surprisingly lucid look to Shuichi, eyes twinkling like reflections in water. “If you didn’t figure it out, someone else would’ve, right?”

“But…” Shuichi began, before sighing. “I think in some way, I get that. But it’s just that I can’t help but feel I had the opportunity to help somebody, and I just blindly followed through anyways.”

Mikan stared down at the ground in quiet contemplation, before looking over with a tiny smile. “Well, if you feel like you want to tell me… I’d be glad to hear your story.”

So Shuichi told Mikan the audacious events of the past few days as they walked to the kitchen and began cooking, not sparing any details. Somehow, she had a particularly calming aura to her, despite how frantic she appeared sometimes- Perhaps that’s part of the reason she made such an excellent nurse.

However, she had been pale and jittery ever since he had mentioned Fenrir. “Hey- Do you have some sort of connection to Fenrir? You don’t have to answer.” He asked as he diced some onions.

“Well… It’s just, um…” She sputtered out words quickly. “I was working as a field medic a while ago… In part of Eastern Europe. I Erm, encountered a young girl, probably just a little older than me who was fairly wounded… Thinking her a civilian, I nursed her back to health- She had hair like a raven’s feathers, and while she slept she looked so peaceful…”

Shuichi raised an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose this story ends with her just being an ordinary girl, huh?”

“No…” Mikan stared down at the partially prepared food in front of her. “She was an international criminal wanted by the United Nations and 53 countries.”

“W-what?” Shuichi sputtered, snapping his head to Mikan. “I mean, I was expecting something abnormal, but…”

Mikan chuckled softly. “I think she managed to work something out to be… Slightly less wanted. On the bright side, I do have a highly effective soldier indebted to me… Not that I plan to ever use the favor.”

“Hair like a raven, huh…” Shuichi absentmindedly wondered if this was by chance the same person who saved him. “I honestly didn’t expect you to be like this, Mikan. You’re a really interesting person.”

“Well… People always say I’m full of surprises- Like a pumpkin full of maggots!”

Shuichi regarded her cheery smile at that with a bit of concern. “I don’t know if that’s exactly a… Positive comparison. But… I do really appreciate people like you. It seems like Seiko would be hopeless without you.”

“I don’t know about that…”

“I mean it! You cook for her, clean for her, support her… I hope she gives you enough credit, and more importantly you give yourself enough credit.”

“...” Mikan fell silent at that.

Spurred on to quickly change the subject by the sharp silence, Shuichi cleared his throat- Before suddenly being startled as Mikan tumbled over, nearly spilling over the food and knocking several utensils off the counter.

By instinct, Shuichi grabbed her- Although his wet noodle physique meant he was a little strained as she stared up at him.

“I’m… I’m sorry!” She suddenly yelped, trying to right herself and nearly knocking both of them over in the process.

With some help from Shuichi, they managed to get her back on her feet- good thing, too, because he was about to give out. (He really needed to add working out to the list of things he wanted to get to but probably never would. 

In response to repeated pleas and apologies from Mikan (Some of which were… Slightly troubling) He did his best to reassure her.

“It’s fine, really. You just… Have to work on being a little more careful. Seiko mentioned this sort of thing never happens in the lab- what do you do differently there?”

“Ah, well… I suppose I’m just more focused. This kind of thing happens whenever my mind wanders…” Shuichi got the feeling there was more to it than that, but he decided not to press. Not like he had an opportunity anyways- As Seiko burst through the door to the kitchen, laptop in hand. “I’ve got it!” She declared triumphantly- Her sudden entry almost scaring Mikan over again.

Shuichi blinked. “Alright, but… We should probably talk about this over lunch.”

After finishing up the meal and dishing out, the three sat around a small table and ate as Seiko turned the screen towards him.

“Inconclusive”

Shuichi raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that… Bad?”

“You’re confusing “inconclusive” with “No match”. Look at this.” She turned the laptop back towards herself, typing in a few things before showing it back to him.

Next to the big bold “Inconclusive” letters were now a string of cases- Cases Shuichi definitely recognized. After all, they were all included within the “Revenge cases” the red hooded assassins were involved with.

“-These-“ Seiko began “Are all the cases this particular string of DNA has been involved with. There may be no match for it within the registry, but that doesn’t mean we don’t know anything about it- Just that we don’t know who it belongs to.”

Instead of responding, Shuichi took the opportunity to leaf through his bag and find the articles for the cases on the screen, showing the connection to his new sudden helpers as well. “That’s… One mystery solved and connection proven.” He murmured, sighing. “And yet, a few more take its place.”

“Like the heads of a hydra, huh…” Seiko mused. “I guess one of those questions is how this person isn’t on the registry in the first place.”

“Correct.” Responded Shuichi. “That and… Well, I still haven’t figured out why I’m involved in all this. I’m choosing to believe your father didn’t try and get me killed, and neither did you- Which means I’m a revenge case without anyone actually wanting revenge on me.”

“Yeah, this is…” Seiko’s eyes strained slightly. “Tough, alright. I don’t envy you having to work through stuff like this all the time- But I guess the first question has an easy, if unsatisfying answer: They’d just have to be someone who lived off the grid since childhood.”

“Problem is that our mystery person here is probably only one of the assassins involved here, so they would’ve had to get them from somewhere. I guess they could’ve just abducted and indoctrinated them, and it’s not like there’s any shortage of missing persons reports for kids, but being in a missing person case in the first place prompts you to get entered retroactively for the sake of that case.” Shuichi elaborated with some vigor.

“I, umm… If I may…” Mikan asked hesitantly. “I know I’m not as skilled about this stuff as you two, but… What if they came from an orphanage?”

Seiko and Shuichi sat in silence for a few moments before Seiko spoke up. “No, I don’t think that-“

“No, no… Wait.” Shuichi interrupted, inspiration suddenly hitting him. “I’ve got a hunch. Can I see the laptop?”

Seiko slid it over as asked, but seemed reserved. “I have my doubts about this thought.”

“Just hear me out, here.” Shuichi answered, pulling up a search engine and typing in: “Nagito Komaeda assassination attempts”

Sure enough, just as he had remembered offhandedly seeing in a news article a while back- The world’s luckiest (Or perhaps unluckiest) cotton headed weirdo, alongside having won the lottery so many times he’s been banned from most versions- Was targeted by professional assassins over four times.

“That’s… Really weird. This guy might be related to the case in general, but what does this have to do with the orphanage point? And- Are you sure this is real, and not the onion or something?” Seiko pointed out, with doubt still lurking in her features.

“Yep. A very credible news source, at that.” Shuichi explained. “As for that point… Mr Komaeda here happens to be the owner of quite a fair share of wealth, due to winning the lottery quite a number of times and robbing casinos dry… And he happens to be fairly benevolent with his funds, almost never spending them on himself and instead choosing to donate them to charities. Such as…” Shuichi drew out the reveal to build out anticipation within his small audience. “Orphanages, especially.”

Although Seiko still seemed to be drawing something of a blank, Mikan, who had suggested the thought in the first place, followed along with him. “You c-could probably engineer a way to get children in exchange for giving funds, but… That one person with a bit too much charity could ruin it for them…”

Shuichi nodded. “If you abduct any kid their parents are naturally going to notice, but it’s unfortunately different for orphans. We’d run into the same issue if the orphanage staff wasn’t in cahoots with the organization in question, but if they were… Well, it’d be easy enough to pull out kids before they were put on the registry, and mark down on paper and tell everyone they were adopted… And unless a thorough investigation was conducted on the paper trail, nobody would be the wiser. It’d leave you with a perfectly good pool of children ready to be turned into killers who can’t be caught by traditional forensic methods. Our friend Nagito ruins this back and forth by giving orphanages the money they need without having to hand over kids. There’s probably some blackmail or threat aspect too, but they would probably rather their grip remains as tight as possible.”

“That makes a little too much sense, honestly.” Admitted Seiko. “Makes me wonder what the catch is. If it is true, and we just stumbled onto a huge conspiracy over my dinner table… I wonder if a team of assassins is going to come bursting through the window because of you, Shuichi.”

“I sure hope not…” Shuichi laughed with just a bit of fear. “I think we’ll be fine, though. I don’t think Mikan’s soldier contact would let her be attacked like that.”

“I don’t know if a criminal is somebody we should be relying on, but… We still have another mystery to solve, right?” Posited Seiko.

“Yes, we do. And this one… May be solvable with just a little bit more research.” Shuichi turned the laptop back towards himself and began typing. “Here’s the thing: If some of these aren’t actually revenge cases and are just disguised as such, we should be able to find a discrepancy somewhere. Lies have a way of sleeping through truth like rot that’s easy to spot if you’re looking at it.”

“In the meantime…” Seiko said while picking at her food. (This was the first time he’d seen her without the mask- It was odd, almost like seeing a glasses wearer without them) “Do you mind if I look over all the cases we’re having a gander at in print? I think I have a bit of a small gambit of my own to indulge.”

“Well, I don’t see why not…” Shuichi rummaged around in his bag, before handing over a stack of papers to Seiko.

Surely enough, with just a bit of poking Shuichi was able to find a small contradiction. It wasn’t anything massive- And easily overlooked if you weren’t looking for it, and yet it stood out so clearly whenever his search was so focused.

“Alright. Here it is- An assassination that was presumed to be because a particular police officer had a hand in sending someone to jail. But it turns out that in actuality, that person was an undercover cop trying to crack down on prison violence… Which means between my case and this one, I think we have precedence to believe that a lot of these simply use revenge as a shield to mask their actual motive. Then, the question would just become… Whatever it is.”

“About that.” Seiko popped in, seemingly done with whatever she needed from the cases he’d handed to her. “Take a look at this.”

Sliding over her phone, there was a picture pulled up on it- a beta list for “Ultimate Adolescents”, which contained both all the choices that had already been confirmed, and quite a few others who ended up being runner-ups and the like. Most startlingly, quite a number of the cases he had matched victims with potential ultimates on this list… Even himself, under “Ultimate Detective”, right next to Kyoko.

Shuichi blinked- A few questions bubbling to the foamy surface of his mind. “Where did you get this.”

Now that Seiko has her mask off to eat, she turned away from him when she felt the need to hide her expression- Which happened to be almost every other sentence. “There’s… Someone I know. Miaya Gekkogahara, one of the student leads on the project.”

“What, you’re… Friends?”

In response to Seiko’s hesitation to respond, Mikan inserted herself into the conversation. “I t-think Seiko sees it more like “Acquaintances”... Miaya can be a little… Pushy, about going to therapy especially.”

“Yeah.” Seiko finally answered. “It’s… It’s almost entirely a work thing, but she always tries to get closer to me. I appreciate the thought, it’s just…”

Shuichi was slightly tempted to tell Seiko that she probably needed therapy, and there’d be nobody better… But not only did he not want to incur her wrath yet again, but he’d be a hypocrite as well… After all, he’d been avoiding getting any kind of mental help for who knows how long.

Regardless, this information was nonetheless enlightening, shocking, and troubling. “This means… Well, we finally have a very clearly defined range of victims- And also a motive. Especially if we assume they’re taking them alive, that means whatever organization this is would be targeting influential adolescents, then kidnapping them and faking their deaths… Just, the issue is that this list is from the future foundation, and it just so happens to overlap… I don’t want to imply yet another huge conspiracy, and yet it seems the two are at least involved.”

“M-maybe not negatively, though?” Mikan offered. “I think it might make more sense if the future foundation were working to counter whatever these red hooded thugs are doing…”

Shuichi mulled it over for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah, Mikan… You’re right, actually.”

“Eeeeeh? Really?”

“Well, think about it… The UTDP is held in an isolated location for an entire summer. We assumed that was just because of what they told the public- For research and talent development, but it would work just as well as an elaborate way to protect everyone involved.”

Seiko and Mikan glanced between one another. “I’m not sure whether I should be concerned or relieved.” Seiko finally said.

“Although…” Shuichi wondered, covering his mouth. “That does- I…. There’s a call I need to make.”

Excluding himself before stepping outside the house, Shuichi dialed a familiar number for the final time.

“Hey Kyoko, it’s… It’s Shuichi. Again. I think… I think I’ll just cut to the chase this time and not waste your time… Because what I say this time may actually be important.”

“There’s… I think you might be in danger. I know you’re probably taking everything I say with a grain of huge salt because of who I am and the state I’m in, but… If you’re even listening and you take one thing away from this, please be careful. I think I was targeted because of my youth and my… “Talent”, even if I wouldn’t call it that myself, and you happen to be an even juicer target now that I might not be an option. As for everything else…”

Shuichi did his best to explain the rest of his somewhat complicated, and fairly unbelievable theorycrafting to the silence on the other end of the line. Even if he knew more than likely that it wouldn’t even be heard… He at least needed to try and get it out there.

After finishing and hanging up, Shuichi said his goodbyes to the pair of girls before heading home- After all, there wasn’t much more he could do with regards to this case with what he had available. At the very least… He had made two friends. Well, one friend and another he was still thoroughly confused about. Even after they had exchanged numbers, Seiko said something confusing.

“Shuichi- I still hate you. But don’t let what I think get in the way of your passion, alright? I couldn’t live with myself if I did that.”

It was all in Kyoko’s hands now... And he had a feeling what he had found was just a figment, anyways.

…  
…  
…

Shuichi’s dreamless, restless sleep he’d tumbled into as soon as he got home was murdered by a barrage of notifications from his phone.

Seiko: Shuichi turn on the news right now.  
Seiko: Wake up.  
Seiko: Wake up.  
Seiko: Wake up.

It continued like that for quite a while… Meanwhile-

Mikan: Shuichi please wake up!  
Mikan: Seiko’s starting to get a little peeved you’re such a deep sleeper…

Groaning (And regretting handing out his number so liberally) Shuichi rolled over in bed, fumbling around in the darkness only pierced by streams of light through his blinds till he found the remote and flicked on his TV.

“-Kyoko Kirigiri submitted a massive collection of findings earlier today related to a global conspiracy, and a shadowy organization dubbed the red hoods- Although she has told all major media not to thoroughly credit her for the findings.”

Shuichi blinked. In moments, the drowsiness in his mind was eviscerated and replaced by a raging, bubbling volcano of questions ready to erupt.

Was his wild gander of a theory really good enough for Kyoko to publish? Would this somehow be drawn back to him? What would this mean going towards for the red hoods? Would there be a government crackdown?

It looked like she had more or less published his theories wholesale, while removing a few things (Like any connections to the future foundation and UTDP) whilst adding her own tempered outlook that used the resources she had at her disposal.

It seemed… Despite the ever-incessant wave pounding of doubt he subjected himself to, he was worthy of a master detective’s time… At least in some sense. What’s more, it seemed she had tried her best to not assume credit, even despite the fact she couldn’t name him directly due to circumstances…

In the midst of a raging swirl of thoughts, a flower of hope managed to blossom. He thought… He thought to himself that if Akane could see him, she’d at the very least be proud.

Content to slip back into sleep to mend his mind ravaged by grief and contemplation, he almost got his rest till the doorbell rang throughout the house.

Groaning yet again, Shuichi tumbled off his bed and at the very least made himself look presentable, before shuffling through the massive mansion and to the door.

On the other end of it was a disgruntled reporter, with long bangs over one side of his face. 

He muttered something to himself about an errand boy, before suddenly switching his mood from aggravated to somewhat energetic. “Ah, Shuichi Saihara?”

“....Yes?”

“Congratulations! You’ve been selected as a second ultimate detective.” Before he could even react, the reporter forced an envelope into his hands and shut the door.

Blinking, Shuichi’s already overwhelmed mind nearly broke down completely in a traffic jam of words and concepts. The thought of being the ultimate detective had always occurred to him, but as more of a laughable joke than a feasible dream in any sense. After all, even if there was some overlap between them sometimes, no talents had duplicates- Except for the lucky students.

And yet, here he was. Clutching an envelope probably worth more than he could imagine. A wandering, bloodied thought managed to squeeze itself out of the train wreck of his mind… And something occurred to him as he fished his phone out of his pocket.

Surely enough, under the torrent of spam from Seiko there was a single notification- A call back from a very familiar number.

Kyoko didn’t bother with messy introductions like Shuichi always did over the line, getting straight to the point.

“Your doubt is perhaps the most mystifying thing to come out of these past days, Shuichi. I’m aware I said that I wouldn’t call back, yet circumstances have forced my hand- Perhaps for the better.”

“It seems that this issue you have cannot be resolved by mere encouragement alone, as I had thought… After all, it is tied to such a fickle thing as emotion. Rather, I’ve decided to prove to you your brilliance through action and experience.”

“It was simple enough to issue an ultimatum, as I had expressed my reservations about attending in the past regardless. It was this: Either both of us attend, or neither of us do. Naturally, they appealed without much pressure and you are now the second ultimate detective, even for how little that title means in reality.”

“Please do not call me back: I will not listen to any calls you have. The next time we talk should be in person.”

* * *

  
Back in the present, Shuichi finished with his story- Thoroughly out of breath and perhaps a bit parched from all the talking he’d done.

Maybe explaining all of that was a bit superfluous- After all, he could think of ways to say what he had in such a lengthy story in just a paragraph or two. Still, with Kaede pressing so heavily on him and being fairly flummoxed by his self-doubt, he felt he owed an explanation- And a thorough one, at that. 

Halfway through the story, he felt like it had drawn on so long that his listeners would more than likely abandon him to more interesting things, especially since most of the other ultimates had scattered to their own endeavors- Leaving quite the need for a few cleanliness-minded experts to pick up after.

Yet, they stayed rapt with attention, and Kaede even seemed somewhat insulted when he suggested at one point she might have better things to do. To Ibuki’s and Kotoko’s credits, they were good listeners who didn’t interrupt a single time… Despite Kaede’s complaints before the story. He supposed that when Kaede meant business, people tended to listen.

Iroha also hung with their meager group of storytime listeners, but he naturally couldn’t tell if she was actually listening or simply completely engrossed into whatever she was drawing. He supposed it would be difficult to not pick up on at least a few things with how much he’d spoken, but you probably couldn’t extract much meaning from just a few fragments of speech here and there.

After he’d finished his investigative epic of sorts, the air hung with that all too familiar stabbing silence- The kind that inspired anxiety as to whether what he’d said would be well-received, or he’d just unloaded a truck full of drivel upon his “Friends”.

But as it often was, his doubt was completely unfounded, as his three listeners erupted out in applause- With Ibuki perhaps being a little too vicarious with added yells. While he was stunned momentarily, Kaede placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke in a reassuring, song like voice.

“I didn’t know that of all things, you’d be good at telling stories, Shuichi- But first things first, you need to go find Kyoko and thank her. It seems like she wanted to talk to you anyways. That’s more important than whatever we could waste your time with.”

“But-“

“No buts.”

“I-“

“Nuh-uh.”

“I’m-“

“Going to go talk to Kyoko.” She finished, eliciting a sigh from Shuichi.

“Alright, fine.” He relented. “I don’t suppose you two can back me up here?”

Ibuki touched her fingers together. “Ibuki knows better than to argue with Kaede on something she feels strongly about… Besides, I agree with her! You should say thanks, and be loud about it, too!”

“Don’t do that last part.” Kaede corrected.

“As for me…” Began Kotoko. “I have to agree with both Ibuki and Kaede here- And not just because they’re my besties, either. You should be excited about being able to thank someone who helped you out so much! Excited like it’s your birthday, or Christmas or something.”

“Yet somehow, all I feel is dread.” Said Shuichi dejectedly.

“No more downer Shuichi, please.” Said Kaede. “Now- I’m forcibly ending this conversation! Go out and say thank you!” With a bit of a shove, Shuichi was sent careening off in the direction of the “Ultimate Analysis” building. 

But before he could get too far, Iroha tugged on his jacket after he was already past her, looking up at him with slightly dopey eyes and a slightly nervous tone. “I, umm…Was listening to the whole thing.” She began “And I just wanted you to know that I’m cheering for you… Oh, and there’s this, too.” She tore off the top sheet of her sketchbook, handing it to him.

It was unsurprising that something made by the ultimate painter was positively gorgeous, but that didn’t stop him from being in awe of it… Especially since it was for him. It depicted Akane (Or at least as accurate of a rendition of her as could be gleaned from his descriptions) falling into a black void, and himself reaching out after her- While Kyoko held him back to keep him from falling into it himself.

Its meaning wasn’t lost on him, but he chose to disregard it for the moment, and focus on the intent behind such a wonderful gift instead. “Iroha… Really? I don’t know if I deserve something like this, just from something like telling a story…”

She looked up with a slightly droopy smile. “I appreciate the compliment, but it’s really not that big of a deal. Drawing and painting is my passion, and, honestly- this isn’t even close to my best. I’m just under the view that if somebody gives something to you, you should give something back… Even if what they give you is just an interesting and compelling story. All I can offer is this in return.”

Shuichi folded up the drawing carefully, slotting it into his satchel. “Well, thank you all the same… Really- I’ll cherish it. I’d like to talk to you about it later, but… I have to get going: Kaede would probably be a little miffed if I went on any longer without fulfilling her geas.”

Iroha simply nodded silently, and Shuichi set off- His mind stuffed like an old library teeming with yellowed pages.

The ultimate analysis building was, like every other building housing ultimate labs and housing- Massive, impressive, and… Odd. Odd in that it was very much form over function, although certainly still very functional. Clearly designed to show off the kinds of people inside- He imagined that if the press had access to this place there’d be pictures of each of the buildings circulating everywhere.

But there weren’t, and Shuichi felt that the grandiose splendor of the place was perhaps a bit wasted on the small smattering of individuals who would be using it more as a place to live more than anything.

The place looked in equal parts like a museum, laboratory, and planetarium or observatory- Which he supposed made sense in every aspect, considering it housed two astronauts, two detectives, a pharmacist, anthropologist, and… A few others he didn’t quite know off the top of his head. “Analysis” certainly fit a wide umbrella of talent, at least according to the future foundation.

The building was centered around a massive circular lobby, with a few boxy wings around the sides. The lobby featured a startlingly beautiful stained glass dome of varying colors, with a huge telescope sticking out of it. 

On the sides hung massive banners portraying each of the ultimates contained within, much to Shuichi’s chagrin- He didn’t really like a drawn version of himself to be displayed so prominently next to Kyoko, much less without his trademark hat. It did contribute to the feeling of the place as a sort of museum, however- And it made him wonder for a moment if Iroha or another similarly artistically gifted ultimate had been the one to make them.

It was a thought he quickly dismissed, however, as the details of the UTDP’s location had been kept very hush hush, especially from ultimates and even with the ultimate staff closely intertwined with the project.

With nothing left to lose besides perhaps his remaining shreds of dignity, Shuichi entered a building he figured probably shouldn’t have had as much money directed toward it as it did.

Inside, it was just as overly grand as it was outside. The lobby was dotted by display cases showing off historical artifacts, space rocks, and evidence from historic murder cases- As well as interactive touchscreen displays on the walls and standing free on the floor for constellations, culture history timelines, and even a few with formulas Shuichi was certainly not schooled enough to understand. If that weren’t enough, the entire place was tied together by a massive holographic display in the center that flickered through various images every so often- From a globe, to a flask full of liquid, a roiling image of a fiery star or a set of fingerprints.

Both the first floor of the lobby and the second floor balcony overlooking it on all sides weren’t all for show, though. On the first floor there was a cafe that served help-yourself coffee and pastries, and on both there were regimentally ordered bookshelves and clusters of comfy looking seating.

It was on one of these seats near the cafe that he found Kyoko, quietly enjoying a cup of coffee while toying with a complex-looking circular lock.

Despite not acknowledging his entrance or so much as looking up, as soon as he got close she immediately placed away the lock and turned to face him- With just the slightest smile. “It’s been a while, Shuichi.”

Shuichi sat across from her, somewhat hesitantly. “It has… Hasn’t it.”

The uncomfortable silence that followed Shuichi like an old ghost reared it’s ugly head again, till Kyoko tilted her head and scrutinized him with a softer look than he was used to with her. “You look a bit tongue-tied. Do you have something to say?”

“I…” Well, truthfully he had a thousand things he’d like to say- Ask, really. Her actions had been so atypical that it stoked his curiosity like anything else. But he supposed he’d just go with the one he’d even been forced to come here for.

“Thank you, Kyoko.”

She scoffed. “Funny- I wouldn’t think forcing you to come here was anything to thank me for, honestly. I had nearly not come myself, but- As you had outlined it is more than likely a bid to protect us, and I had other reasons as well.”

Shuichi blinked. “So… Why did you do it? Make me the second ultimate detective, that is.”

Kyoko sighed. “It’s not so simple that I can explain it in a few words, but I’ll try Anyways. At its most matter-of-fact, I simply had you come because you are as much of an “Ultimate Detective” as I am. You fit all the criteria: Young, and talented. Although keeping the title limited to one person makes some degree of sense, it does ignore the plethora of talent in our field that is specialized differently.”

She locked eyes with Shuichi, and he felt almost as if she were peeling away his layers like a book for every moment she did. “Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. More importantly, as I said before you clearly need more evidence of your own capability- Which I intend to prove to you while I’m here.”

Shuichi locked his teeth together in discomfort. “You’re talking like my doubts in myself are something you can clearly disprove…”

“They are.” She deadpanned.

Shuichi pinched his brow. “Alright, sure. I just don’t see why you’re so… Invested in me, is all.”

Kyoko finished her coffee, getting up to set it down at the cafe stall. “I thought that’d be the most evident thing- I simply see no reason for someone to be mired in the muck of their own negativity for no real reason.”

Shuichi thought to himself that of course someone as confident as her could never understand his plight, but… Kept it to himself.

She walked toward the rather grand, garnished oak doors marked “Ultimate Detectives lab” “Come on then. We have work to do, Shuichi.”

Shaking his head, Shuichi followed after. He didn’t have much of a choice, did he? He had wanted to say more, of course… But Kyoko had a way of guiding the conversation exactly how she wanted and pruning any excess talk. He supposed he could try and get a word in later.

While the lobby of the ultimate analysis building was unmistakably modern, the ultimate detectives lab clearly borrowed aspects from an antiquated Victorian era while still keeping a modern edge- Probably to keep up with the classical Sherlock-esque tropes for detectives.

Similarly to the lobby beside it, the large room focused on a circular design- Most prominently at its center was a circular bookshelf, and around that a spiral staircase that allowed access to its many tomes and each of the floors of the room.

Everything was constructed out of a classical dark oak, which gave it a mysterious yet homey feel, like an old fire-warmed mansion. It was clearly both a place to be casual and conduct research, as it had both quite a bit of seating as well as shelves of case files, connected monitors everywhere for displaying case-critical information or just for fun, and personal touches. 

Personal touches like a fully stocked coffee bar featuring even the most exotic flavors which was undoubtedly for Kyoko, posters of Shuichi’s favorite novels, or even quite a few paintings of both ultimate detectives- Some like Victorian portraits, other with the both of them styled like gritty noir crime solvers.

That wasn’t even all of it… The place had anything a crime solver could need and then some, honestly. It made him consider just how much the future foundation had cannibalised the United Nation’s budget yet again.

What caught his attention was a particularly odd detail, however- A portion of the wall that housed a door that was completely covered in various locks of every shape and kind.

Kyoko seemed to notice where his eyes had been drawn. “They probably put that in for me.”

“Do they… Intend for you to find all the keys?”

“Not likely.” She crossed her arms. “I think… I think it’s some sort of challenge. I’m supposed to pick all of them.”

Shuichi raised an eyebrow. “All of them? I don’t know much about picking, but that’s…”

She shrugged slightly. “I have an entire summer. I’ll make time.” With that she grabbed one of the many expensive-looking tablets connected to the lab’s monitors, before sitting down and glancing over at Shuichi. “Let’s get down to business.”

“To defeat… The Huns?” Shuichi offered with the slightest grin, to which Kyoko responded only by staring. He didn’t know if she simply didn’t get it or just didn’t have time for his shenanigans.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he ambled over beside her. “Right. To business.” Maybe he could get lucky and catch Kyoko in enough of a jovial mood to get her to laugh- Somehow, that seemed like the most impossible thing he’d hoped for today. 

Grabbing his own tablet, they started up an impromptu discussion as they bounced ideas off of one another’s similar, yet differently flawed minds.

“The first thing I wanted to address was the list of ultimates itself.” Kyoko began, pulling it up on her tablet and flicking through the list of names and talents. “It’s certainly bizarre.”

“Well, yeah…” Agreed Shuichi, scanning the names before holding the screen at a particular set. “I think the most obvious abnormality is that there are somehow two Byakuya Togami’s. An impostor, certainly, but… What kind?”

“Indeed. That’s the most present and baffling contradiction here- Unfortunately, from what I know of the Affluent Progeny both of our suspects fit the appearance and personality well enough that picking the real thing apart from the imitation won’t be simple.”

“Yeah, but that’s not even the most present question about them. I guess the real thing to ask is- Why, exactly? What does the impostor and whomever they may be working for gain by stealing anyone’s visage… And why Byakuya, specifically?”

Kyoko rested a finger on her chin in contemplation. “Excellent questions- I’m wondering if this impostor belongs to one of the two organizations who seem to have chips on the table in regards to this event.”

“Ah, you mean the redhoods and the future foundation? I’m not sure. I mean, I certainly think they’re probably both involved in some sense, but this is a bit too… Blatant, I suppose? If the redhoods wanted to toy with this event, all they’d have to do is slip in their own agent with a talent different than what they’re marked as. This just seems sloppy.”

Kyoko nodded in agreement. “If your theory about this event being used as a way to protect us is correct- Which I certainly believe it is- then we should certainly still remain vigilant. As obvious as this impostor is, it does remind us that far more subtle attempts could be afoot.”

“Errrm, speaking of being in danger-“ Shuichi awkwardly segued “I… Were you actually attacked? After I sent that last voicemail, I mean. And… Are you only doing all of this just to pay me back for that?”

Kyoko crossed her arms. “This has nothing to do with any perceived debt between either of us- I’m not someone who finds themselves rugged along by obligation. I want you here for the sake of the truth-“ She stopped for a moment, choosing her words carefully. “-My truth. And-“

Kyoko was suddenly cut off by the sound of the door to the lab slamming in and someone entering on the floor below them.

“GOOOOOD MORNING VIETNAM!”

Kyoko closed her eyes and exhaled in frustration, while Shuichi’s mind darted aimlessly to try and figure out what she might’ve said. As Shuichi and Kyoko stood to see who had interrupted their discussion so raucously, a trio of girls sauntered up the stairs.

At the front was somebody anyone should recognize- Junko Enoshima, ultimate fashionista whose face had been plastered over magazines and headlines for months, if not years. Shuichi had already seen many other male ultimate jaws drop, but… For better or for worse, he was immune to her womanly charms.

Behind her and almost seeming like she was trying to blend into the background was someone whose name he didn’t know- But who he recognized all the same. Someone he’d seen so briefly, yet was burned into his mind all the same. Raven black hair, and a muscled physique that could probably go toe to toe with anyone here- As their eyes locked, her expressionless face twisted into a smirk for half a second as she winked and pressed a finger to her mouth. In that moment, she seemed like an elusive, if deadly fairy skittering in the feywild.

The raven-haired phantom queen of a girl wore a bulky urban camo parka that was clearly too large for the warm weather outside- But Shuichi’s eyes were honed enough to notice the slight bulges underneath the jacket she was clearly trying to hide. By his guess, he figured she was probably wearing a combat vest underneath that held at least a couple of magazines and probably could stop a low caliber round or two. 

Behind those two was the most unassuming of the bunch- Which naturally made Shuichi even more suspicious. She wore a fairly common green school uniform, with long red hair- And she regarded everything with a wide-eyed, innocent kind of curiosity.

Junko grinned while doing a quick spin to look at everything in the two detective’s lab. “Huh, nice place, you two eggheads. Thinking up a storm in here, huh?”

Kyoko narrowed her eyes at Junko. “I don’t remember giving you permission to come in.”

Junko’s expression quickly did a 180 to an exaggerated one of melancholy as she stared at the ground. “oh…. woe is me… i guess i’ll just be leaving now, since everything in my life is decided by mistress kirigiri.”

When Kyoko didn’t respond with anything more than an increasingly callous look, Junko flip-flopped back to her usual jovially infuriating personality. “Wow. You really can’t take a joke, can you, Kyoko? Your childhood must have been rough.” She shook her head. “N-E-ways, I’m afraid I don’t need your permission! and besides, Ryoko over here is the Ultimate Analyst herself, so I feel pretty justified roaming wherever I please in this building.” Junko gestured to her red-haired companion, who blinked in confusion before waving.

“Charming.” Kyoko tonelessly barbed. “But can you please stop wasting our time and get to the point. We were having a discussion, here.”

“Oh sheesh, alright, alright. It’s just that I got wind that you two were working together- And looks like that was totally right, by the way- And all I’ve got to say is that if you two are going to be partners in crime, or… The opposite of that, I guess, you should really look the part. I mean, I know you guys are sticks in the mud but you don’t have to look like one, too.”

Shuichi responded with disbelief clearly showing in his voice “You’re bothering us… So you can give us fashion advice?”

“Well, that’s not the way I’d phrase it, but if you want to think about it that way, sure! Point is, you two are going to come with us and get changed into something that you haven’t worn thousands of times, especially since we’re supposed to have his big dinner party tonight, according to the Ultimate leads.”

“Well, we’re-“ Shuichi tried to respond as politely as he could, before Kyoko cut him off and finished his sentence for him.

“Not doing that.” She said simply. “Go find someone more infested with your frivolity to bother.”

Junko placed her hand in front of her face, adopting a suitably ゴゴmenacingゴゴ pose. “Oh. That’s unfortunate. For you, I mean. I hoped it didn’t need to come to this, but it seems you’ve forced my hand.” She spoke in an exaggerated monotone. “Mukuro, you know what to do.”

With a movement so quick and fluid it was a blurry streak of paint on the world’s canvas, Mukuro retrieved a silenced pistol from  
Beneath her parka and casually pointed it at the two detectives.

Kyoko’s face contorted into one of anger, while Shuichi panicked and held his hands into the air. “W-Wait! Are you seriously threatening us at gunpoint over fashion advice?” He scrambled to ask.

“Oh-hoh, but of course, peasant!” Junko spoke haughtily, placing her hands on her hips as Ryoko set a tiny crown on top of her head. “Fashion is a life or death matter- For me, but for you especially!”

Despite being in a life or death situation, no matter how ridiculous the context- The only thing flaring with cold disdain like a freezer burn on Kyoko’s features was seething vitriol. “You’re bluffing. Nobody is insane enough to actually attack someone over something so trivial.”

“Then, would you like to tell the class what the exact chance is that I’m bluffing?” Junko pushed up a pair of glasses she’d retrieved from seemingly nowhere as Mukuro handed off a clipboard to complete the act. “Please do also inform us whether or not you’d be willing to die over something you call “Trivial” “

“...”

When Kyoko decided to stay quiet, Junko broke out of her persona and swayed erratically from left to right like a tree caught in a windstorm. “Pssh, so much for ‘Unshakable Kyoko’! That was easier than I expected, honestly.”

Shuichi felt like he could feel the echo of something in Kyoko snapping after that insult, like a harp string pulled too tight. “Using your dog to threaten us only highlights your own incompetence in any sort of charisma.”

The room grew quiet. What had previously been a somewhat lighthearted, if dangerous mood was soon completely overwritten as Junko’s face turned a shade of macabre that made Shuichi’s heart and mind want to turn tail and run. The look on her eyes felt like barbed feelers reaching out from the depths and hooking around your leg, snagging on your skin and tugging you screaming into the orborous abyss.

“I’m usually a lenient person when it comes to insults.” Junko began… And in contrast to her usual boisterous attitude, the quiet and collected way she suddenly spoke wrattled Shuichi’s thoughts like they were being tapped on like a xylophone. “You can insult me, my character, my friends, my hobbies, my passions… It’s all in good fun, really.”

Junko leaned forward, eyes filled with malice like the crackling lashes of a gorged red star star- And even if Shuichi couldn’t spot any change in Kyoko’s expression, he knew she had to be at least somewhat unsettled. “But I draw the line at insulting my sis. She isn’t a dog. She’s family. My equal. And if you talk about her like that again, this will stop being so fun for any of us.”

After another solid second or two of a stare down to really let her message sink in, Junko suddenly righted herself to an energetic, on-her-toes stance again. “Well now, that’s enough of that, isn’t it? Psssh, I think everyone likes me better like this right? Aren’t I just positively charming, Ryoko? Sis?”

“As charming as a fetid corpse can be, for sure.” Responded Ryoko tactlessly.

“I’d like to maintain some degree of professionalism.” Said Mukuro stoically.

“Oh, c’mon! This is a get-together, not a field exercise! You know insults only make me stronger.” Junko singsonged. 

“If I must speak, I’d prefer if you weren’t so… Theatrical in outings like this.”

“See, you guys?” Junko gestured to her two escorts. “They totally agree with me.”

“Anyways, it’s time we get going! Mukuro’s gonna put her gun away for… Appearances and all that, you know. But you saw how fast she could whip it out, right? No scurrying off on me, or it’s bullets for you!”

And so, Shuichi found himself being led around like a dog on a leash, with Mukuro behind them to guarantee obedience, Junko leading at the front with her usual audacious cheer, and Ryoko wandering somewhere in the middle.

Part way through their walk to the “Ultimate Performance” building where the Ultimate Fashionista lab was located, Shuichi worked it up within himself to start a conversation with Ryoko- Who was nose-deep in a notebook filled to the brim with chicken scratch. After all, she seemed the most reasonable of the group and the least under Junko’s thumb.

“Are you really okay with this?” He asked somewhat pleadingly.

In response, Ryoko glanced up and scrutinized him with a curious look, like a child wide-eyed at a monkey behind glass. “Yeah.” She said simply.

Shuichi floundered slightly at the sheer banality by which she addressed his question. “But… Don’t you think what she’s doing is ridiculous? Or… Are you taking orders from her like Mukuro?”

Ryoko shrugged. “I don’t think I’d take orders from her of all people even if my life depended on it- I don’t understand how Mukuro does it, honestly. But the way I see it, it’s really not worth getting involved- And, honestly I have a hard time seeing anything as ridiculous.”

Ryoko flicked through her notebook before landing on a page with a little less incomprehensible writing than the other ones. “Hey, would you mind telling me about yourself?”

“W-Wait, what?” A confused Shuichi sputtered at the sudden change in topic, like a car careening off the road.

“Well, it’s just I don’t know if you’re worth remembering or not- So i’d appreciate it if you helped me out so I know whether or not I should spare some space for you.” She said as simply as if she were talking about today’s weather.

If there was one thing Shuichi was good at, it was making conclusions… Even if he happened to jump to them a bit too often. So, fortunately it didn’t take him too long to make an informed theory on what exactly was going on with the unusual girl Ryoko- from what she’d said, to her unusual disposition and notebook.

Clearly she had memory issues, and used the notebook to supplement her spotty memory… And the thought managed to spark some related discourse within Shuichi, like racing and raging electric currents. If he were the same… What would he find important enough to save? It made him think of simply how much extraneous information he kept around, like his trivia on Samurai or feudal Japan from when he was younger. Then again, without those little, stupid things, no matter how pointless they may be- Would he even be himself anymore? Or, just like Ryoko, someone who always seemed lost and just a little bit strange.

“So… You want me to give you a pitch… Of myself?”

“More or less, yeah.” Ryoko agreed, chewing on the end of her pen.

“Well…” Shuichi scratched his face sheepishly. “Honestly, I’m not very interesting, as far as ultimates go. If you’re looking for a really compelling ultimate detective, you should probably go talk to Kyoko, who’s just over there.”

Ryoko nodded her head emphatically, before scribbling a few lines down in her notebook. “Gotcha.”

“W-Wait… Didn’t I just say there wasn’t really that much about me worth writing down?”

Ryoko regarded him with just a smidgen of japery. “That in and of itself is worth writing down, dontcha think? Every other ultimate today has gone on and on about themselves and their talent when I’ve asked, and yet it feels sort of like I have to force you to talk. That’s interesting, blueberry-head boy. I think you deserve a spot in my memories for that.”

“Blueberry-head… Boy…” Shuichi sighed. Why did it feel like he could never get a compliment without getting insulted in the same sentence?

That thought was postponed, however, as the quartet of individuals ranging from wacky to stoic meandered up and into the ultimate performance building.

The place simply oozed Broadway charm or Hollywood flair- regal decadence once fit for kings that now went to the kings of the information era. Lush carpet, flashy lights, posters and sounds.

Like a theatre for drama, fashion, and pop all in one- Bright spotlights outside that were off during the day but he was sure would light up the night soon enough. Cascading fountains carved in the image of the ultimates within and elegant gardening alongside a literal red carpet. The entrance led into a lobby that was small compared to his building- In the theme of a movie theatre lobby, featuring the classic overpriced food (Although it was more or less free here) As well as imaginary movie posters featuring all kinds of ultimates.

Unfortunately, Shuichi didn’t have time to stop and gander, running every detail and question about the sheer massive scale of this place over in his mind- Like his obsessively curious mind wanted him to. After all, he was being carted around at gunpoint to get a makeover.

The group got pulled into a side passage with luxurious carpet Shuichi was sure would great to dig his toes in and dark mood lighting. As they took a few different turns in what was beginning to seem like a maze of a building, they moved up a set of stairs and Shuichi caught a glimpse through a door into a balcony overlooking a massive auditorium.

His first thought was that it seemed like a waste- After all, even with every single ultimate in attendance the place wouldn’t even be half full. Still he supposed it was the thought that counted- And just like everything here it seemed made to perfection. Just from this angle he could see massive screens, lighting systems and speakers installed.

But when he gandered for too long, Mukuro passed by him and literally grabbed him by his collar, pulling him along.

“H-hey! I… I got it! Let me go!” Mukuro glanced over, with just the slightest smile pulling up on her lips- Like a painter’s tiny imperfection, before silently taking her place at the rear again.

It wasn’t long before they arrived at a grand set of double doors with images of flowing fabric like waves of water and items of clothing with invisible wearers. Naturally, it was the ultimate fashionista lab.

The most prominent thing was the catwalk just like you’d see at any fashion show, although he had no time to regard it as they were forced along it to the dressing area behind it… Which was more like a warehouse than any conventional backstage area. Rows upon rows of clothing in every type, pattern and size- Fabrics, accents, thread and wool, oh my. Shelves and racks stacked on one another and only reachable by the moving ladders everywhere, Shuichi thought about just how hard it must be to find what you need- Or inversely easy to get lost… Or hide a body.

Clearly the future foundation had thought that through, at least on the first two points. Mukuro and Junko each grabbed a tablet not unlike those from the ultimate detective lab from a rack of a dozen or so from the wall, before exchanging a few quick whispers and breaking off into groups.

Kyoko, Ryoko, and Junko- Mukuro and Shuichi. Before he could protest what was happening, the others had already vanished into the swap of vests and dresses, with Kyoko flashing him one final supportive nod.

Shuichi cleared his throat as he followed beside perhaps the most dangerous person for miles, all the while trying not to think about exactly that. “What are we doing, exactly? I thought Junko was the fashionista.”

“Of course.” She replied swiftly and simply. “She just told me to make you a suitable outfit, and I intend to comply.” She glanced down at the tablet every so often, marking out the locations of a few pieces of clothing as they fetched them.

“Do you… Have fashion experience? I’m sorry, I just…”

“It’s understandable to assume a soldier wouldn’t know of such things, especially considering what I’m wearing.” She gestured down to her parka and simple hiking pants. “But live long enough in someone’s shadow, and you’re bound to subsume part of it- Otherwise you would simply be inattentive. Besides, when attempting to pass as someone else, it’s important to get every detail right- Even Fashion.”

It was a strange thing, both how Shuichi’s curiosity mellowed out his fear towards this deadly stranger, or just how easily he was beginning to trust her- Just from the slightest profiling. Naturally, he shoved these tendencies down to keep his wits about him, but… It scared him how easy they were to fall into. “You’ve… Impersonated people?”

Mukuro shrugged. “Sure. You’ll understand if I don’t go into the details, though.” She handed him a shirt to add onto the pile of clothing he was carrying. “People think physical appearance is important, and yet it’s somewhat easy to fudge. Most important is nailing every small habit others might know them by- It only takes them noticing one discrepancy before your web of lies becomes unraveled. Like any defensive strategy, the most exploitable part of your lies must be protected.”

Shuichi acknowledged the very present thought that was dashing like a frenetic rabbit within him. “Why are you okay with taking orders from her? Junko, I mean. I guess you’re sisters, but… It seems like as someone with your skill set, you’d be involved in something more… Important?”

Mukuro turned, scanning over him quickly and efficiently- Before nodding as if she’d deduced something, and getting back to the matter at hand. “I don’t expect you to understand, no matter how much I explain. Are you willing to hear something that may only confuse you- And also vehemently disagree with?”

Shuichi blinked. It didn’t matter if he got confused or didn’t agree- At this point, he just wanted to know. “Of course.”

“Alright.” Mukuro began, voice as always level and passionless. “I think it’s evident that certain people fulfill certain purposes within the world. To put it in a comparison that is perhaps a little lacking, you would be a key- Someone who unlocks the mysteries and darkness of the world others would rather remain shrouded… And I would deduce you’re at least somewhat content with this being your purpose. Similarly, I am a sword or a shield- Someone used by others either to protect or attack, and I am also content being used in this way.”

”Tell me, Shuichi.” She continued, a slight bit of fervor bleeding into her voice. “What would you say are the qualities that make a good soldier?”

Shuichi pondered for a moment, fingers on his chin. “Well… I suppose combat prowess would be the first thing- Being good with weapons, obviously. And tactics and teamwork too.”

Mukuro shook her head. “You’re thinking of a soldier as a “Boots on the ground” sort of individual. In reality, militaries- Especially in their modern incarnations require such breadth of talent that for most, combat experience is irrelevant. This highlights the core essence of a soldier- The ability to follow orders. In life in general, but especially in a military hierarchy, everyone is beholden to and must receive orders from someone else. And this similarly ties into the ability to act often in discordance with your inner morals or reservations.”

“What do you think was the hit rate in WW1?” She queried, seemingly somewhat tangentially.

“Well…” to be honest, modern war was one of the few things Shuichi didn’t have at least a scrap of collected knowledge about, besides what he’d learned in school, if only because he didn’t like to contemplate such wanton waste of life and resources. “I guess… Kind of low. Maybe one in four? Maybe one in ten, even. Firearms weren’t the best back then.”

Mukuro fiddled with something around her belt- Probably a knife sheath, if he had to guess. Was that a tell that even the ultimate soldier had? “You would think it would be at least double digits, but you’d be incorrect. In some sense that can be attributed to technology or use of ammo in cases where hits weren’t intended- But the real fault lies in human psychology. Although conflict is very natural, killing is not- After all, after you’ve defeated someone you have already established dominance, and murder isn’t required. When placed in the situation where you’re intended to fire at another person, especially after days upon days of grueling stress- It’s only natural you’d shoot without aiming, using your weapon more like a particularly loud stick than anything else.”

“Where… Are you going with this?” Asked a confused Shuichi.

“I suppose I’m just trying to say that if your heart allows you to waver, you have ultimately failed as a soldier. Militaries have done their best to combat these natural human tendencies by training their recruits to shoot before thinking- But at the end of the day, this is a way of avoiding the problem rather than actually solving it. For some, that split second reaction simply isn’t possible. As a sniper, you have to study your target for perhaps hours on end- Watching them go about their day and be human, having to account for bullet drop and wind before you even squeeze the trigger.”

“And you’re saying… Those things don’t apply to you?” Shuichi chided himself inwardly for letting all the fear that was collageulating within him ooze into his voice.

Mukuro seemed to notice, too. “My intent isn’t to intimidate you, or imply that I’m soulless. I certainly have reservations about murder and avoid it if it’s not relevant to my orders, and I wouldn’t consider myself a psychopath. But at the same time, I don’t let my heart make me waver as others might- The orders are always the most important. That’s what makes me the ultimate soldier, and with that mentality anyone could be one, too. I’ve followed orders my entire life, and without them… I feel lost, just as you might in a life without questions for you to answer.”

“Then… Are you saying Junko is the one who’s giving orders to you in this situation? That’s why you’re doing what she says without any complaints?”

For once, one of Shuichi’s questions had stumped her for a moment- As she put her thoughts in order like packing bullets into a magazine. “No. Junko and I have a… Different relationship.” She paused, rubbing the back of her right glove with her left. “Being siblings is more or less irrelevant- We’re simply individuals working towards a common goal.” Somehow, Shuichi could tell that there was more to it than that. It was perplexing that he was sure it would be nearly impossible to easily extract any sensitive information from her, even with torture- And yet in this instance it was simple to glean.

“You could say I’m not under anyone’s orders right now, which is a bit contradictory to everything I just said. And yet, here’s a question- Who does the highest authority answer to, Shuichi?”

“I guess some people would say god, but… I don’t think that's what you’re going for. Probably… Some sort of code, right? A set of rules that if they overstepped, there would be consequences- Even for them.”

Mukuro seemed content with that answer. “Indeed. That code- That essence of whatever organization they serve is the true director behind the scenes. Similarly, even if I might not answer to anyone directly for the moment, I follow a code- One which often may contradict my personal feelings.”

“So…. You’re like a samurai, then. Or… A knight?”

After Mukuro stopped and stared at him for a moment, Shuichi uncomfortably shifted back and forth. “Did I… Say something wrong?”

Mukuro cracked the first full smile he’d seen from her yet. “No… It’s just that I’m not used to being seen in such a positive light. Most people like to call me a “Demon in a girl’s body”, or if I’m lucky will just shower me with pity I don’t care for- They couldn’t know that “Saving me” from the lifestyle I chose myself would just get them killed or worse. But that… Well, I don’t see myself as particularly honorable, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

In turn, that one smile lifted Shuichi’s mood drastically, like a sunbeam peeking out of a deadly rainstorm. “I don’t know: there’s some sort of honor in doing your job and never letting personal judgement get into it… At least I think.”

Mukuro shrugged. “If you say so. But I don’t think we might have much more time alone, so… There’s something else you wanted to ask, right?”

“Well… Of course.” Shuichi finally got a hold on the slippery question that had been slithering within him since he’d first seen Mukuro wink at him. “You’re the one who saved me… Right?”

Mukuro peeled off her right glove, exposing a tattoo of a wolf that had been burned into Shuichi’s mind. “I take it you’ve been taking care of snubby?”

“Well, I haven’t fired him… If that’s what you meant. But I’ve been keeping him on hand and in good shape. Do you… Want him back?”

“No.” She said simply. “I think he’s taken a liking to you. Besides, I still have all his brothers and sisters.” What she was saying was a great reminder that despite everything she’d just said, Mukuro was still human- And a sometimes silly human who gave her firearms goofy nicknames and personalities at that.

“For what it’s worth… Thank you. For... saving me.”

“I think you waste your thanks on someone who just as easily could’ve been the one delivering the bullet rather than stopping it if the orders were just a bit different. But…” She fiddled with her knife sheath again. “I’ll accept it anyways. And… You know, we didn’t actually drag you guys out here to dress you up.”

“Then… Why did you?”

She stared up at the tall roof of the warehouse, as if trying to see the sky behind it. “Your theory was correct… Mostly. One of the intentions of this event is to protect those involved. But even still, danger has followed us. This was less about what we were doing and more about getting you somewhere safe where we could keep tabs on you for a bit.”

In hindsight, it was somewhat obvious, but he was still peeved. “Then why didn’t she just tell us? Why’d she have to frame it in this whole charade.”

Mukuro sighed. “That’s just Junko’s way of doing things. Besides, do you think Kyoko would have come either way? If anything, the truth would make her even more suspicious of us.” He… Couldn’t argue with that.

“That’s another one of the answers to the question of why exactly I went along with this” she continued. “The real intention was much more serious than just playing detective dress up.”

“Speaking of which, you… Wouldn’t have actually shot us if we didn’t comply, right? You were bluffing, like Junko said.”

“Oh, of course not.” She answered, much to Shuichi’s relief. “I would’ve just tackled you before rendering you unconscious. The firearm was just an easier way of meaning I meant business.” 

“I see. That’s… Still slightly concerning.” Shuichi said slowly. “I don’t suppose I could get any more information on what exactly else is going on here…?”

“No. And besides, it’s about time we get you changed and meet back up with the others. This should’ve been past her window of opportunity.”

Her? Did Mukuro know exactly who she was dealing with…? If so, why didn’t she deal with the problem directly? He was sure that Mukuro could take just about anyone thrown at her, even someone like Sakura.

Just another question to add to the ever-wriggling pile pressing against his skull from within- This place had a habit of adding them even more often than usual. 

Even despite not feeling comfortable in his place here and wondering if being the second ultimate detective was more of a fluke than anything else… He was at the very least glad he had met so many interesting people, and hoped he could call himself friends with them. If it was going to be like this every day…

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This (Half?) of a chapter is both longer and took me longer than it reasonably should have. And... This isn't even all of it! There's several parts of conversations and an entire section about Kyoko and Peko that I simply chose to omit.
> 
> The song for these two chapters is touch-tone telephone- A song about people disbelieving in you, and a single person who believes in you and supports you. The original song is about aliens, but I think it work just as well for the kind of conspiracy Shuichi figures out within this chapter- There's also a great animation to touch-tone telephone about a young detective figuring out someone who faked their own death.
> 
> So... Shuichi, Shuichi. Yeah, I think for most people he probably lands squarely in the upper echelons of tier lists, and for good reason. My major friend who I enjoy DR with puts Shuichi as one of his favorite protagonists of all time, and I tend to agree.
> 
> It just comes to show that although a “blank slate” Everyman like Makoto is easy and certainly works, taking a risk and making someone like Shuichi is far more interesting and usually yields better results. 
> 
> It’s easy to get us to relate to Makoto (After all he has next to no defining qualities, especially early THH) but having us relate and having us truly sympathize, care for an root for a character are vastly different things. Shuichi’s realistic, human reactions to grief and trauma and his perseverance and character growth make him really a sight to behold.
> 
> Funnily enough, probably thanks to Tsumugi’s influence Kyoko and Shuichi are excellent foils- And I would kill to see a buddy cop show between the two. They simply play off each other incredibly well: the novice and the veteran, the stoic and the empathetic- It practically writes itself, which is why it’s both surprising and saddening that I haven’t seen many good fics that have the two interact. If you have any, please share!
> 
> Shuichi is one of those characters I’m stoked to tackle heading forward as he’s simply a treat to work with. He is both simultaneously vulnerable and capable, and further in I’m both excited to play him off of his usual compliments in different ways like Kokichi, Kaito and Maki, but also characters he’s never interacted with before- Celeste, Peko, Yuki- The list goes on.
> 
> As for Mukuro, I was never a fan of her portrayal in any canon media. It felt forced and rushed, an incomplete picture based off a character that was probably never meant to be anywhere near the forefront. Her portrayal in DR: IF is fine, if painfully standard- But in DR3 she comes off as having no agency of her own and having some sort of pseudo-masochistic relationship with Junko which is honestly... Offputting.
> 
> So, I’m redesigning their relationship to have much more of an equal back and forth even if Mukuro is still sort of taking orders. This is probably evident by how Junko acted when Kyoko insulted Mukuro...
> 
> Other than that, I find it unfortunate that Mukuro’s status as a child soldier seems to be pushed to the side to serve for her lackluster dynamic with Junko. It’s honestly a joy to explore a psychology similar to but also completely alien to Maki’s- When I considered what could willingly make someone want to choose that life and serve Junko so unwaveringly, I thought someone who felt most comfortable with others fit the best.


	8. Nuclear (Maki)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ultimate child caregiver... Or assassin, depending on who you ask ruminates on her failures and talks with a few people that are always somewhere between enemies and friends.
> 
> Featuring Maki, with major appearances by Rantaro, Sakura, and Mikan with cameos by Hiyoko, Himiko, Aoi, and a new female character?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been sitting around finished in my docs for a few days, but due to my monster hunter addiction I didn't get around to posting it for a bit.
> 
> ...Actually, you could probably blame it taking so long on that too, for those of you who are actually still out there. Regardless, enjoy!

  
It was just like any other hit when Maki Harukawa eased open the door to the Ultimate Detective’s lab, knife in its hidden sheath and silenced pistol in its holster.

Unfortunately, the universe had an unfortunate habit of toying with her- Particularly of late. Rather than two unarmed detectives being in this room like her sources had informed her, there was a single, intimidating individual who didn’t fit either of their descriptions in the slightest.

The first thing Maki’s mind always flicked to instinctively in a primitive kind of way was threat assessment- Before even beginning to absorb their features. From a quick scan he certainly didn’t seem to be dangerous… At the very least, he was lacking in muscle mass. Thin and spindly to an almost unhealthy degree, and she didn’t spot any of the telltale bulges of hidden weapons, either.

Then again, there was how dangerous someone appeared on the surface… And something else, a kind of aura and way a person carried themselves that indicated a human incarnation of violence. And for his credit, this person simply exuded the kind of thick composure that any trained killer would.

Then there was his appearance, which was unusual to say the least. Well dressed in a tuxedo in perfect condition which seemed to fit his almost kingly aura quite well. But by far the most striking were his piercing red eyes, who looked more like miniature red stars than actual eyes- finally, Maki understood what it must’ve been like to be on the receiving end of her fear-inspiring glares.

Finally, his hair… Unkempt, long and slithering all in different directions, at great odds with the rest of his fairly refined appearance. They seemed almost alive, writhing and undulating slightly in the drafty room.

Although Maki would’ve liked to think she was silent and stealthy enough in her entry, he almost immediately noticed her. “Maki Harukawa?” 

In a single fluid motion as simple as a keystroke, Maki had already unbuckled her holster, flicked the safety off, and readied her firearm: no witnesses. She’d been bad enough about that as of late already.

“Before you attempt to kill me I should warn you this won’t go how you expect it will.” He said cleanly and with a bored undertone, as if he were discussing the weather and not talking with an assassin. “I’m readily aware you won’t listen, but as of late I have found myself engaging in acts of futility every so often- Perhaps wishing people like you weren’t so dreadfully predictable.”

What he had said was futile… But especially because it sparked Maki’s already on-edge mind that might as well have been filled with kerosene and released a fiery torrent of rage, as she emptied the entire magazine with pinpoint accuracy on his head.

With an inhuman fluidity, the well dressed man calmly began walking over to Maki, as every bullet very narrowly missed- Some even cutting off some of his hair. It was as if he had the devil's own luck, and Maki soon realized he was too close to have time to reload.

Unsheathing her knife, Maki lunged and the two engaged in close combat. Maki’s style had always been heavily offensive-based: after all, most of the time her win condition was her opponent’s death. She focused on overwhelming her target with a barrage of attacks from all of her limbs and knife before they even had a chance to counterattack.

Unfortunately, her rash lack of focus on defense had come back to haunt her in the past couple of engagements she’d been in. It worked perfectly well against hired bodyguards, thugs or even other assassins, but when she encountered someone truly skilled all that ended up happening was Maki leaving herself open.

Somehow, this machine of a man was one of those skilled individuals, parrying a few strikes before knocking the knife out of her hand, grabbing it for himself, and delivering a decisive kick to her side that put her off balance just long enough to strike a fatal blow with the newly acquired knife.

Maki wasn’t even fearful: Just angry. Truly, terribly angry not only at this person, but at herself. She honestly felt she deserved whatever she got next.

But fate kept its little game running with her, as he switched around the knife to its pommel and struck her in the gut, before following it up with a few attacks powerful enough to knock her to the floor. Then, he apathetically dropped the knife and turned away.

“Your technique is sloppy.” With that, he left the room without another word.

Maki took a moment to stare at the ceiling, grinding her teeth so hard she felt her jaw might snap. Truthfully, it would have been better if she’d just been killed there- It’s how she’d always thought she’d go, with the only difference that she’d always figured it’d be poetic for another assassin to take her down.

But in her world, the act of sparing another was one of flagrant disrespect rather than mercy. Sparing someone meant you wanted to send a message- That they posed so little of a threat you didn’t care if they lived, and you wanted you to go back to your masters and tell them of your failure.

It made her livid, a feral sort of anger that originated from the older parts of her mind and slithered painfully to the most human aspects, wrapping its suckered roots around everything. Anger at him, the world… But any anger she had always reflected partially back upon herself.

She swallowed her spit, tasting the familiar coppery taint of her own blood- So familiar it was slightly calming, like tea or coffee to others. She’d gone through so much training, so much needless bloodshed- And you could only taste your own blood if you lived through the fight to.

She steeled herself for the moment, although she knew the raging wolf within her would crash through its bonds soon enough- All she could do was get to somewhere safer when it reduced the walls of her mind to splintered chaos.

She got up, cradling her stomach and slinking along in the shadows as she made her way to the “Ultimate Combat” building. Most didn’t see her, and those that did either seemed suspicious and slightly disgusted, which she was used to, or… Waved with a smile, which was far more troubling.

This was always the worst part of her job- The pretending. People who would see her as just an ordinary girl or even a friend, when in reality she was a true monster. The worst times were when she had to pretend to be someone she wasn’t for months on end, only to betray all of their trusts in the end. It was terrible, knowing it always came to that… And part of the reason she shoved people away when she could.

But at the same time, it was nice- to pretend if even for a small time that she was something, someone other than what she was. The best times were when she could fool herself, and forget why she was even there. But it never lasted, and soon enough… The job would come calling back.

It was unusual, to say the least that Maki was perhaps the only person in this entire complex who had two labs and dorms… One for her fake talent in the “Human Care” building, and one for her real talent in the “combat” building. There were two possibilities as to why, and both weren’t exactly ideal. Either the Future Foundation had knowledge of her cover which obviously would be critically bad (And would raise questions as to why they even let her in here in the first place), or her employers had enough of a reach into the Future Foundation to give her this luxury… Which was even worse, since if she were caught by the Future Foundation she would at least have a fair trial, whereas failing yet again under her supervisors would mean something far, far worse.

But it wasn’t her place to wonder: people in her place who wondered too much ended up dead. After all, who ever thought of a thinking blade? It was there for one thing: to kill. Not to question its own existence so fruitlessly.

At the end of the day, though, she was still human. Or, at least… She figured she was, even if it sometimes felt like she’d gutted out that part of it long ago. Why else would she feel the tiniest pangs of guilt at the smallest things? Why else could she never forget the faces of all those she’d snuffed out? It might be better if she just threw out all of her remaining humanity into the blood-mucked gutter where she’d lost her innocence… Then, at the very least she’d be sure to succeed in her only real goal: to survive.

The ultimate combat building was some mix between a Roman coliseum and a traditional dojo, with a smattering of military aspects for good measure. It was an impressive thing- Stretching taller even than most of the other buildings, it’s grecco pillars accented by Japanese iconography and styling, with graffiti and symbols on its surfaces- Fenrir, the redhoods, US military… It was truly a place of bloodshed.

She slipped in, quickly making her way past the first floor, which was more commercial than anything else- A lobby and concessions, as if the theatre were actually in use. 

The second ringed floor around the central amphitheater was far more personal, a grand marbled place featuring a small garden on each side and a stream of water which flowed out of statues every so often, depicting the inhabitants of the building (Sans Maki, of course) as if they were gods and goddesses. The entrance to the ultimate assassin lab was unmarked and out of the way- Easily mistaken for just a closet or machine room. 

When Maki scanned her wristband and slipped into her lab, the extreme contrast between the hallway outside and the place of death inside became obvious. Instead of bright and grand, the place was lacking in color anywhere but where it was needed, and lit in harsh, incandescent lights. Neatly sorted in a tactical order, the place had clearly designated sections- An armory in a locked cage, a shooting range of very realistic holographic targets (They even screamed out in pain) An entire section for makeup and disguises, a few fridges full of chemicals- Poisons, acids to dissolve bodies, explosives- and of course… Her red-hooded outfit, on full display. 

But she wasn’t here to practice with her new toys. Rather, she needed to relax and keep her wits about her… And hopefully smother the beast thrashing within. She quickly darted over to a black door that blended in with the wall, which led to her living quarters.

The few rooms were everything her lab wasn’t- They were homey, and personal… And that made it hurt all the more. The soft-colored woods and equally soft carpets that your feet would sink into, the beautiful paintings of sunsets and beach scenes… The windows that let in vast swathes of natural light and showed a picture of the actual sea so beautiful it may as well have been a painting. It all… It all was too perfect, and reminded her of something she had lost a long, long time ago.

Still, even with shaking hands and a jaw numb from how hard she was biting down to keep herself from snapping, she ambled over to the small kitchenette and began to make herself some coffee. The rhythm was comforting, simple… 

Snap.

The string of neurons that had been tensed and drawn taut for far too long finally frayed and snapped, echoing throughout the raging sea of blood in her mind and causing the liquid to swirl and thrash like a mound of hands and arms.

Similarly, her hand tensed and the mug in her hand shattered with unnatural ease, digging porcelain into her hand and throwing scalding hot coffee everywhere. But the pain was just a dull whisper compared to the demented fury that was binding to every cell in her mind.

Screaming out in bitter wrath, Maki pounded against the wood of the wall, breaking it apart with every strike as splinters dug into her hand.

At the very least, if there was one… ONE thing she was good for, it was fighting and killing. As terrible, ATROCIOUS, as much of a MONSTER as she was, she was at least good at that.

But what was this? She’d lost in a direct confrontation… Not once, twice, but THREE FUCKING TIMES recently. It didn’t matter who they were. It didn’t matter why. All that mattered was she had LOST.

If, after all this, her employers killed her for being inept… Then what was ANY of it even worth? What was any of the pain worth, any of the sleepless nights with faces in agony flashing by her eyes, the sea of blood she had wrought that was nearly up to her neck now? If she didn’t survive…

If she didn’t survive, then she really would be a MONSTER. Because she would have done it all for NOTHING. 

These thoughts multiplied and swarmed like blood-starved mosquitos, so plentiful within her mind that they were clumping together into wriggling masses of beaks, wings and limbs. 

Just as the thoughts buzzed and SLAMMED against her mind, she too bashed her hand against the wall. 

AGAIN.

And AGAIN.

It was only when the thoughts had run their course that Maki had a singular moment of clarity and glanced down at her ravaged, blood-streaker hand, looking like a porcupine victim with all the shards of wood stuck into it.

Although the pain was certainly present, it wasn’t pressing in the slightest, especially with the rush of adrenaline still washing over it. No, far more annoying was the realization that with all these new scars she was getting, she’d have even more to conceal. After all, most civilians weren’t marred like a weathered rock face.

She could think more clearly about when she had lost, now… For better or for worse. First had been a hit for one Shuichi Saihara, taken alive. She’d managed, at the very least something, if not him- But his raven-haired defender had put up an even fight, although Maki had gotten a good few fair hits in. Unfortunately, however… And like always, her aggressive nature had left her vulnerable after her initial gambit didn’t work.

She’d gotten away with something, at the very least- Besides questions of who exactly she’d faced. Another assassin? Then again, who ever heard of a job to protect someone… And she didn’t act or operate like any common bodyguard, either.

As for her next defeat, it was another “Alive” hit on a detective, Kyoko Kirigiri. But why the hell was a disguised Peko Pekoyama there, protecting her? Peko was well known as the reason countless hits against her master had failed, but Maki had hoped she never had to fight her directly. But for seemingly no reason at all, they had- And she’d lost, for much of the same reason as her previous fight.

And then there was the one she had just failed at, still painfully fresh in her memory like the cuts on her hand. Even if it had been worse than the other two, where she at the very least felt like she had a chance, there was a very present theme- She was a killer, not a fighter. When against anyone with a defense that could weather her voracious storm of steel, she always lost.

Maki worked over these thoughts, sharpening them incessantly like edged steel. With her fairly good medical knowledge, she quickly got a pair of tweezers from a surgical kit in her lab, picking out the splinters one by one before wrapping her hand in gauze.

As she admired her handiwork, however, one of her many scars became present- A string of them along her forearm, made apparent by the blood that had run over the concealer. They brought back memories that had been shoved down into the sanguine wells of her mind for a reason, only surfacing when the entire place shook with an earthquake of fury...

* * *

  
A young Maki Harukawa flew awake only in an instant. It had been months since she’d had a peaceful and slow ebb into consciousness- No, now every time she woke it was as if she were yanked from one world and tossed into the other like a discarded toy.

Tightening the grip she’d had on her knife while she slept, she leapt out the attacker she knew was there- Swinging in wide, brazen motions, her wild rage still untempered and childish.

The instructor that had come to kill her in her sleep knocked the knife out of her hand carelessly, before clocking her in the side of her head with the side of their palm, sending her spinning and reeling onto the concrete floor of her bedroom.

She choked out a few wheezing gasps. At the very least, they hadn’t killed her yet- That meant they were satisfied with her performance. Those who failed to at least attempt to defend themselves from a waking attack this late in the program were to be weeded out: she knew that.

Given no time to catch her breath, the instructor grabbed her by one of her twin tails and lifted her to her feet, eliciting a strangled scream from her in the process.

“Pit.” Was the single word they said, before turning around and leaving her to her own devices.

Truthfully, it didn’t matter what they looked like- This routine happened almost every day, and what they looked like exactly, or even their gender had long since faded from Maki’s memories. All that mattered was the red hoods they wore that she had now inherited… And the supreme malice that curled around their irises like a flaring orborous.

Gasping for a few moments and chiding herself for screaming out, Maki slipped the knife back under her pillow, and put on her uniform- A blank, gray set of athletic shorts and a t-shirt. 

She was almost glad they had come today. On the days they didn’t, she was shook awake at the slightest shift in air pressure, swinging at nothing in the dark, gripping her knife so tightly in her sleep her hand blistered.

Today, she’d be heading to the pit- Something she’d been dreading for months. The pit was where they sent initiates to be truly tested- Where they were willing to let you bled out and die if you failed. And for that matter, she’d seen a lot of the others go there and never come back.

She stood in front of the mirror for a few moments, wincing at how pathetic she looked- Doing her best to smooth out her face and look hardened and stoic, rather than weary and desperate. They’d be more likely to see something in her that way.

Sighing quietly to herself, she headed out of her small room, through the brightly lit concrete corridors. On her way she passed by a few trainers and other initiates- Even if they were ultimately in the same boat, she kept her head low and didn’t exchange so much as a glance. Trying to talk, or… Get any kinship from any of her fellows here was a recipe for disaster.

Not only did it conflict with the grating atmosphere they’d constructed here, battering against her resolve and identity like a long, long storm- But conversation among themselves naturally led to thoughts of escape.

She’d seen what had happened to those who talked too much- Left strung up like a deflated balloon, all the blood left to drip out of their body. Sunken skin that clung tightly to their skeleton without any substance to their flesh, and looks of sculpted horror at a slow and torturous end.

So her trip to the pit, like always, was in silence, till she breathed in a final sharp breath and steeled herself before opening the large metal door… Before it locked behind her.

The pit was actually a fairly featureless, large room lit brightly by piercing white lights. What became troubling were the drains fixed around the room, and the bloodstains that led to them- Evidence of precious death that clung tightly to this place that no amount of scrubbing could cleanse. Maki was sure that if she could see ghosts, this place would be packed with them.

Perhaps worse was that one-way mirrors were set into every wall, allowing the overseers to watch her battle- But also reflecting her pitiful image back into her, whose visage sung like any attack might. Still, she readied herself- Eyes locked on the opposite door for her challenger.

A few moments of silence ground upon her like she were a blade being sharpened, till the door slid open and a dog was shoved into the room.

It looked to be in terrible shape-Matted fur, skin that clung tightly to it and a lean, hungry look to its eyes… A look Maki had often seen in a mirror. Maki only had a moment to steel herself, digging her fingers into her palms before it was upon her.

The young girl wasn’t even close to the deadly assassin she would soon be- Flailing out desperately as it latched onto her arm. Maki screamed out, a strangled howl of desperation as tears dug down her face and her arm lit up in pain like a solar flare of torturous agony. From what little she could see, it was only a jagged valley of torn sinew, curling skin and muscle with blood pouring out around the beast’s yellowed teeth.

It occurred to Maki for a moment that she might die here.

For the first time, and certainly not the last- Something snapped within Maki. Something primal and vital, like the elevator cable hoisting up her humanity. It rang out with a maddening note, and the expression of a scared little girl twisted into that of a desperate and vicious predator. She bared her teeth, eyes glinting like sharpened steel.

She could die? No, she WOULDN’T. She would survive… She would SURVIVE. No matter the cost. She would snatch the stars out of the sky, rip the heart of the world and smash it in her hands if she had to… It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she lived, no matter the COST.

Her vision ran red, crimson as if the blood sloshing out of her arm was pouring out of her eyes too. It was a bloody abyss, a whirling vortex of maddening candy red that glinted and smiled malevolently in its warped ways. She cried out, more like a howl than a scream- And wrenched back control of her arm despite the pain. 

She slammed her arm against the floor, splashing a spray of blood everywhere as the beast yelped- Yet still hung on. It seemed desperate to grasp onto life… But she was more desperate. It didn’t matter if she had to kill the devil himself to live.

She slammed the beast into the concrete- Again, and again… AGAIN. Till it was just a crumpled mess of blood, and she wheezed our strangled breaths in the shock of her encounter.

* * *

…

  
Maki sighed, breaking her gaze away from the long-healed scars. If she became wistful about every single scar on her body, she’d be here for days.

She applied some concealer over it, deciding to work through the motions of one of her training exercises before a knock came at the door, and she instantly righted from relaxed to battle-ready.

There were only a few possibilities of someone who’d know of this secret lab… And all of them weren’t good. Scowling, she crept over to the door (Despite the room being soundproofed) Before bursting out of the door and instantly engaging whoever might’ve been there.

They were good, too- As she sent out two quick strikes, they blocked with the readiness of someone who’d at least spent a few years training themselves- But that was nothing compared to Maki’s lifetime of experience. Even as she recognized the person halfway through her assault, she struck at a tiny exposed area before pinning them to a ground and pressing her trusty knife to their throat.

But her victim wasn’t one to squirm when put under the torch- Rather, he greeted her with a warm, and- At least for Maki- Mocking grin.

And that easygoing wanderer, hidden underneath a mop of well-groomed avocado hair, was none other than Rantaro Amami. Ultimate adventurer and survivor both, and one of the few people here who knew of Maki’s actual purpose.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t press this knife down a little further and turn you into a Christmas ornament.” Maki threatened through barred teeth.

Rantaro shrugged- Or at the very least, did the best he could while on the ground with a knife at his throat. “It’d be too much trouble to clean up for someone who isn’t your target?”

Maki narrowed her eyes, honestly contemplating just being rid of his loathsome presence- Before deciding not to. She climbed off him, sliding her knife back into its hidden sheath while he got up and dusted off his shirt.

He rubbed his fingers along his neck, where her blade had drawn just a bit of blood. “Nice to meet you too.”

Maki rolled her eyes with crossed arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He held out his arms, as if to push her away with a reassuring smile “Hey, you greeted me the only way you know how, right? I think that’s the same for you as waving or saying “Good Afternoon”. “

“You’re really not making a case for your continued survival here: I’m an assassin, not a savage. And if you say “What’s the difference”, you’re ending up on the floor again. Now tell me why you’re here

“Hey now, hey now.” He ran a finger through his hair, still calm as ever. “Can I not just pay a visit to an old friend? Do I have to have an ulterior motive?”

Maki continued her thoroughly unamused stare down. “Considering it’s you? Yes. And I wouldn’t call us “friends” much less “old friends”, considering we met only a few times, and under wildly different circumstances. Not to mention, one of those times was you paying me back for something.”

“I think you just wanted to say “I don’t have friends” without sounding wildly edgy.” He japed with a relaxed smirk. “But alright, alright: admittedly, I do have a reason why I’m here…. But part of it was just wanting to see you. Truthfully, I saw your name, and your fake talent… And figured you were probably on a job.”

“Yes, yes- Get to the point, please.”

“Well, all I’m saying is haven’t you ever considered that by being such an antisocial shut-in, you’re comprising your cover? Just about how many child caregivers scowl at people who wave to them, lock themselves in their room all day, and end any conversation before it can even begin?”

Maki turned up her lip slightly. “Most people don’t see somebody who doesn’t like to talk and instantly jump to “Assassin”, you know.”

“No, but we’re in a campus with some of the greatest minds of tomorrow- Two ultimate detectives, the ultimate analyst, and a lot more. Don’t you figure that in a year of this, somebody will catch wind to what’s going on here?”

Maki stopped and thought for a moment. On one hand, he made a very compelling case- On the other hand, she really didn’t want to admit he was right. “And this is where you follow up your coherent argument with something ridiculous, am I right?”

“Ah, you know me so well- It’s almost like we’re friends or something… All I’m saying is that maybe you should come and hang out with me sometimes… Just every so often, at breakfast or something. That would keep up appearances, right?”

Maki pinched her brow in frustration. “So this entire was just a ploy to get me to talk to you?”

Rantaro smirked slightly, just a small flick of the paintbrush on his mouth. “Perhaps.”

Maki sighed and shook her head. “Sometimes, I feel like you want me to kill you: but fine, you make your point. I’ll try my best to seek you out and maintain a conversation every so often.” Somehow, it was easier with Rantaro- Perhaps it was the knowledge that he already knew of her hidden side, and wasn’t disgusted in the slightest. It was always the knowledge that she was deceiving someone, along with her innate suspicion and paranoia that drove her away from any meaningful relationships.

Rantaro sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t suppose I could barter with you to meaningfully talk with anyone other than me…?”

“Do you want to die?”

“Didn’t think so.”

Upon further scrutiny of his left arm, she noticed something- Reaching over in a blur, grabbing his arm and slipping down his bracelet-

Exposing a scar just below his wrist. A scar Maki could remember like it was on her own body- After all, she’d been there when he’d gotten it.

* * *

  
Surprisingly enough, being an assassin didn’t always consist of covert murder for hire: Maki found herself doing odd jobs every now and then. Infiltration, threats and blackmail, torture, even a bodyguard once or twice.

But by far the most unexpectedly common job she ended up doing was a participant in… Killing games.

The world was a place whose corruption pulsed under the soil and crept up into the soul of those who would let it- A place where making child killers went unnoticed, where she could kill and never be caught. This was something Maki learned early, perhaps earlier than anyone should ever reasonably know.

But even for someone experienced in the blackest pitch human depravity could offer, a suffocating void that demanded coin and blood alike- It was shocking and nauseating to learn of the underground bloodsport arenas that existed worldwide.

A tradition as old as humans, but popularized with the Romans- As with anything illegal, it grew out of practice but ever more twisted in the shadows. Affluent investors who tired of conventional entertainment often sought something more enthralling… Something primal and gripping. And what could be more entertaining than watching a struggle of lives?

Naturally, not all of the spectators were crazed lunatics who would willingly partake in such things if it worried their easily appealed consciences. But they could rest at night knowing that the participants were voluntary- At least, only in a technicality to Maki.

The closest equivalent to legal slavery in the modern day was being in deep, deep debt- So naturally, most participants were those short on luck who needed a lot of money very quickly. And it just so happened that whomever they owed knew somewhere where they could get that…

And with no legislation to speak of, gambling on the potential winner of the events was of course in order. With spoils to win, there are those who would cheat to get them- Which was where Maki came in. Of course, between a common civilian thrust into bloodshed out of necessity and someone who had waged through collageulated swill their entire life, the assassin would win.

It was because of this that some bloodsport ended up simply being a contest between a few hired killers with fodder for good measure, but most thankfully didn’t turn that way. Maki actually hoped non-red hood assassins got involved and got themselves killed as a result- Those who were in this business voluntarily and enjoyed the deed were atrocious.

Not to say she didn’t understand that she was a terrible excuse for a civilized human herself, but… That's besides the point. 

It was in participation in one of these events under the bidding of her hiree where Maki met Rantaro, with him mirroring the modern day- Grinning while pinned on the floor, a knife at his throat. 

The game in question was a pirate-themed maze, filled to the brim with traps, wild animals, and of course- Other contestants. With Maki’s only orders to win, she spotted an opportunity for an easy kill on a fellow participant and took it.

What had stopped her from finishing his life in one clean motion was how easygoing and how little resistance he gave, even while in the most pressing danger. It gave him just long enough to get a word out of his mouth, which delayed her further.

“Huh. You didn’t kill me.” He said simply.

“Why didn’t you resist?” Maki snarled.

“Huh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I mean, I figured with you being an assassin, and all, wouldn’t do me much good. I still can if you want me to, though?”

Maki edged the knife slightly into his skin. “Do you want to die? You aren’t making a very good case for your survival with knowing that.”

“I figured it was a moot point by now, but if you want to know- I’m Rantaro Amami. I don’t want to be pretentious, but… You probably know who I am? It’s a bit hard to talk with you in my throat, but I guess you could say I’m an investor in your employers, in some sense… Only that I only pay them so they don’t kill me.”

Maki had heard of Rantaro- Actually, despite his humility she would be surprised if anybody within the killing games hadn’t heard of him. After all, he’d earned the title of ultimate survivor- Not from killing, but actually quite the opposite… Adopting a pacifistic outlook despite the bloody nature of the games, yet still managing to come out on top.

He was just generally a minor mainstream celebrity as well, known for the stunts where he would go out into desolate and remote locations with nothing but the clothes on his back and a video camera and survive, or the fact he was the heir to a massive family fortune. His name had come up in the news a year or so ago as well when his father was involved in major fraud and extortion charges that made him a wanted international criminal.

With suspicion still blazing on her narrowed eyes, Maki released him, sliding her knife back into its sheath. “That seemed a little too easy for someone known for being a survivor.”

Rantaro shrugged. “Perhaps it’s just fate- Or maybe I let you with the knowledge you wouldn’t kill?” He winked. “I suppose you’d like a more detailed explanation now?”

“I don’t believe in fate, and I’d like to believe you aren’t stupid to rely on my very limited charity. ” Replied Maki tactlessly. “But yes, that was my intention in releasing you.”

“Alright, well- If you know about me, you probably know about my father, and the scandal he was in a while back that caused him to flee the country and go into hiding. Well… The truth is, I had a big hand in that.”

Maki crossed her arms, unconvinced. “Children don’t usually backstab their parents without good reason.”

“I know, and I’ll raise you one up: parents don’t usually callously abandon their children. At least, they shouldn’t, at least not willingly and maliciously. Amami senior was an evil, wicked person… Family didn’t mean much to him, and neither did love or marriage. I may be the only legal child he had with his actual wife, but in his travels around the world he had… A lot of trists with foreign women.”

Rantaro’s carefree face grew dark, oily shadows splashed along his eyes. “Can you imagine? Telling someone you love them, that you’ll spend the rest of your life with them, maybe even that you’ll lift them out of poverty and into endless riches- Only to abandon them without a second thought. He spread his seed like a human dandelion over every continent, leaving sorrow and longing in his wake.”

Mali’s face twisted into a scowl, remembering that one of the people who had a hand in her awful life were her parents who abandoned her. “I get why you did what you did now.”

Rantaro shrugged with a lackadaisical smile, his expression turning light hearted again as if a ray of sunlight had illuminated his features. “I might’ve still not done what I have if he actually felt like a father to me, but… Those trists happened during my childhood, so naturally he wasn’t there for me, either. My mother did the best she could, she… Always seemed to be trying to patch up the gaping whole in her heart by spending. A lot of my early memories were in auction houses or affluent parties.”

“I started traveling for a lot of reasons: it felt empty at home, or I had always felt the wanderlust tugging at me, but… The most important reason was to find them: my siblings. I wanted to reclaim the family he’d abandoned. And… All things considered, it’s gone pretty well so far, save for the occasional tussle with death.”

“Right, right.” Maki let out an exasperated sigh. “I let you go to hear how you knew about me and my organization, not to hear your life story: if this tarries any longer, I can certainly change my mind.”

“Easy now: there’s no need for threats among friends, is there?” He adopted a defensive position with his arms up. “But you’re right; I have tarried perhaps a bit longer than I should’ve, despite myself. Anyways, it’s no surprise I was willing to let his jenga tower of lies and corruption come toppling down… With just a little shove from me, of course. Needless to say he didn’t like that, or all the other exploits I’ve been attempting since then to make his life harder. So… He’s tried his best to kill me, in increasingly creative ways.”

“And one of those was my organization?” Maki raised an eyebrow. “Then I don’t see how you’re still standing here. We’re many things, but at the very least we get the job done.”

“That’s the thing: I was never hunted. The redhoods were always his favorite way to eliminate things he found… Burdensome, from witnesses to politicians he didn’t like. As I already knew about it, I could overbid him and keep my life. At least, till it ended from my own recklessness.”

“I don’t see how you managed to outbid a millionaire whose fortune rivals that of the Togami family.”

Rantaro ran a hand through his hair. “In truth, he could’ve overbid me several thousand times over if he really wanted to. But… When he fled from the country, his legal bank accounts were locked down and transferred to me… His next of kin. Of course with his illegal ventures he was intelligent enough to keep most of his spoils in offshore accounts, but if there’s one thing he is more than anything, it’s a cheapskate. You’d think being that filthy rich would lead to having the willingness to spend, but even when it comes to killing me he’d rather find a cheaper way than have to outbid me.”

Maki shook her head. “It’s almost a shame he’d outbid any bounties on him… He’s the kind of person I wouldn’t mind killing.”

“I appreciate the gesture..” Rantaro began, before closing his eyes and exhaling. “But please… Leave the bastard to me.” With a malicious grin, his eyes became lakes of inky blackness. “I want to watch the life bleed from him as I strangle him with my bare hands.”

“...” After a moment of awkward silence, Maki burst out into a short laugh, which prompted Rantaro to blink in surprise- As the shadows on his eyes scurried away.

“Was it that funny?”

Maki cracked a small smile. “No, it’s just… I never expected to hear something like that from you, of all people. I thought you were supposed to be a pacifist or something- Isn’t your entire intention in these killing games to complete them without killing?”

“Oh. That…” Rantaro scratched his chin. “See, I don’t think I have the authority to judge most people, much less take their lives- That even includes someone like you, who most people would condemn for really no good reason. The difference with him is… I think I have the right to judge him. I know the depths of his depravity, all the misery he’s caused that is in some ways worse than death.”

Maki leaned back with just a slightly relaxed stance. “The more words I hear come out of your mouth, the more I’m convinced I’ll never understand you. But that’s fine: I don’t need to. All I need to know is what exactly I gain by keeping you alive- I was hired to complete this game, and I intend to. And as far as I’m concerned, having you tag along would both be a burden and have a non-zero chance of you backstabbing me.”

Rantaro nodded in agreement. “Admittedly, I haven’t made much of a case for myself in a place like this, with my tendencies against violence. But it’s just that- A tendency. Trust me, my life is more important to me than just some ideal… And as for why you should let me live, I think from what you know of me so far you can tell that I wouldn’t abandon you so easily, especially when failing to finish you might mean a very dangerous, angry and capable enemy for life. Besides, there’s some long-term benefits to keeping me alive.”

“I’m listening.” Said Maki with crossed arms.

“As we’ve already established, I’m a buyer in your organization… Of sorts, since I’ve never actually hired anyone out for a hit. But since I do have the connections, what’s to say I couldn’t hire you out for a couple of weeks to do something completely unrelated to your job? You don’t seem like you are completely on board with what you do for a living.”

Maki narrowed her eyes. “I’m not convinced anyone would spend that much money just for my sake: buying an assassin out doesn’t come cheap.”

Rantaro grinned in his schemingly casual sort of way. “I have a lot of money sort of just lying around, either from my sort of celebrity nature or my inheritance. I’ve always been kind of an ascetic who doesn’t like being frivolous about their spending, although not for any religious reasons- if I spend a lot of money to make somebody who helped me out’s life that just more full of hope, I think that’s worth way more than whatever else I could’ve spent it on.”

“But hey-“ Rantaro turned his head to the side and locked eyes with Maki. “-It doesn’t really matter if you believe I’m that generous or not, right? Because in this case, I don’t really have a choice. If I promised this and you went through the trouble of keeping me alive and dragging me along, and I didn’t fulfill my end of the bargain- You’d certainly find me and kill me anyways, right?”

Maki sighed, before nodding begrudgingly. “You make a fair point: two heads are better than one, and you don’t seem completely useless… Well, let’s go then- Before another contestant finds us.”

The two traveled through the maze for a while, with Rantaro supplying occasional eye roll-worthy quips and anecdotes, of course. It mostly went without anything of notice… For a death maze, that is. Just a wild bear, a few rabid dogs, and a pool of sharks, along with a supply of deadly traps.

“It seems these particular murderfest hosts have a particular taste for the ridiculous.” Maki observed with a sigh as she wiped shark blood off her face.

“Yeah, I usually just assume the types to watch this stuff and actually enjoy it are the people who are into torture porn.” Rantaro agreed, before something in the room they’d just entered into caught his eye.

In a locked display case with seven “x” ‘s on a small screen below it was a single bullet, with “Chekhov’s Bullet” written on a sign above it.

“Chekhov’s bullet, huh…” Rantaro chuckled. “That’s kind of clever, actually.”

“You’re complimenting the people who engineered the death maze on a crappy gag.” Maki scoffed. “Let’s keep going. It’s obviously a trap of some sort, and even if it isn’t it’s one bullet with no weapon to fire: not worth bothering.”

“But, I mean- Calling it Chekhov’s bullet implies it’s going to be useful in the future. When nobody has guns, even a single bullet could mean the difference.” Rantaro pointed out.

“Or they’re just fucking with us- That seems like something the spectators would get a kick out of.” Said Maki with crossed arms. “I’m certainly not willing to waste my time and potentially my life on it.”

“Alright, then I’ll check it out, okay?” Rantaro eased forward, inspecting the display case before spotting a button in a small alcove some distance away- With a suspended blade sticking out of the alcove just above it.

“That’s probably what opens it.” Rantaro concluded. “I would bet you probably have to time your button presses as to not get dismembered.”

Maki turned away. “Great. Now let’s go.”

“I’m pretty good at stuff like this. You wouldn’t even be at any risk- You’d just have to pick the thing up.”

Maki exhaled loudly before turning back to glare. “You are aware that you’d be even more useless then normal sans one hand, right?”

Rantaro winked with a beguiling sort of charm. “Then I just won't fail.”

Maki shook her head, but walked over to the display case. “If you screw this up, I won’t hesitate to abandon you.”

“I figured. Here goes.”

Maki heard a beep, then the whoosh of what must’ve been the blade falling- Then one X became a check mark. She heard the sound of it retracting, then another beep.

The cycle continued for five more times, till they were just one away- Rantaro was capable. After all, she wouldn’t have agreed if she didn’t begrudgingly think he was. But on the last beep as the display case opened and she retrieved the bullet, she heard Rantaro cry out. Even when he must’ve been in serious pain, his scream was muted and held back.

“God fucking damnit…” Maki muttered under her breath, and for the first time in a long time, she felt an alien and disturbing emotion writhing within her amygdala- Fear. It was something that had long been replaced by the far more brazen anger that flared erratically, and yet, when fear had returned- It was not for herself.

She didn’t have much time to think about it at the moment, however, as she dashed over to Rantaro, despite what she had said previously.

Unsurprisingly enough, Rantaro was on the floor, biting back anguish as he cradled his now-stump of a left hand, with his removed appendage still in the alcove.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Maki seethed as she grabbed his lost hand, placing it next to him as she worked to make a tourniquet from pieces of his shirt to stop his stump from spitting out blood like a defective water house.

“I can… See that, thanks.” Rantaro got out through labored breaths.

Maki bared her teeth. “You can still quip even while in that much pain? I have half a mind to leave you like I said I would.”

“But you aren’t, are you?” He wheezed out with a forced grin. 

“The more you point it out to me, the more likely I am to change my mind.” She retorted, eliciting a grunt from him as she tied down the tourniquet with perhaps more force than was necessary.

“We um, should be fine…” He half-heartedly said, dabbing some rags on the end of his stump. “I didn’t do it without having this possibility in mind- It’s only my non-dominant hand. Although, um… Maybe I could have made it if I did use my right hand.”

“And you’re fine with being a cripple for life?” Maki grabbed the rags from him forcefully and made an actually efficient Makeshift bandage of sorts.

“I thought about that too. So long as we make it out of here within an hour or so, there’s someone I know who’d be willing to reattach it for cheap and under the radar.”

Maki stopped to stare at Rantaro. “You’re not talking about who I’m thinking of, right? Because I’d rather staple back on my arm with an office stapler and duct-tape then let him have a hand on my body.”

“I… Think we are.” Rantaro slowly got out, wincing a few times throughout as Maki finished and stood to admire her handiwork, handing his hand to his other hand. “After all, there’s only one broker who’s that good at surgery.”

“Well, we should probably get going, since thanks to you we’re still on a time limit.” Maki murmured with ire seeping within the shallows of her voice.

Rantaro stood, struggling to get his balance- Probably still woozy from shock and the blood loss, despite his seeming tolerance. “You seem… Fairly good at medical care. You giveth, but also taketh, huh?”

“I wouldn’t describe it in such an… Extra way, but sure. When they expect me to be a one-woman army, that naturally also includes the medics… When I only have myself, someone needs to be there to dig the bullets out of my stomach.”

“Still, it didn't seem like you were just trained for personal care. “ Rantaro noted.

Maki shrugged. “Some it wasn’t from training, admittedly, but rarely I do need to keep someone alive to fulfill my goals. Sometimes, it’s important to keep them alive.”

“Of course…” Rantaro muttered with some bittersweet agony. “I forgot everything related to your organization must have some shard of malice embedded into it.”

The two continued along in the maze of traps and trepidation, encountering their fair share of dangers that are still too benign to mention- Till they came across what must’ve been the last room.

It was grand, a large cavern of sorts with water spilling down the sides and beams of sunlight that fluttered down through holes up to daylight . Fitting the pirate theme, gold and (possibly real) skeletons were everywhere, including large chests of the stuff hanging from the ceiling. The donors of this event certainly had an eye for the frivolously dramatic, after all.

Across from their entrance to the room was another, which had a similar pair of survivors- A man and a woman, although they looked far more muscular than Rantaro and Maki. They seemed like gladiators- The type of people who participated in these games for enjoyment.

  
And surely enough, one of them had a pistol at their hip.

“You think it’s loaded?” Asked Rantaro.

“If it was, they would’ve shot us by now.” Replied Maki. “Looks like there’s our Chekhov’s gun.”

Rantaro smirked. “Well I’ll be damned. Just… How are we going to get the two together?”

Shaking her head and exhaling, Maki crouched down low and touched the ground like a sprinter at the start line. “I’ll deal with it: all I need to know is that you can take the shot.”

The two gladiators were approaching them, eyes flickering with sparks of bestiality Maki had seen in many a mirror. 

Rantaro raised an eyebrow. “You can take them both?”

Maki snorted. “Oh please. They’re like kindergarteners with crayon’s- just ruffians compared to me. Here.” She dropped the bullet into his one free hand. “Don’t miss.”

Rantaro grinned. “I never do.”

Combat was many things.

Combat was a dance. A song, a thrashing tide of frothing water or a tumble of rocks down a mountain.

To Maki, combat was life. For just those few moments between her lunging and her taking a life, everything melted away and she could influence everything directly, her emotions and very spirit coursing like the blood in her veins.

She rushed forward, effortlessly dodging two swipes, before sliding past the duo and plucking the handgun off the woman’s hip- Hucking it over to Rantaro. She couldn’t see where it landed or even if he’d gotten it, but she was far too occupied, her rage liquefying her thoughts and tuning every aspect of her form to violence.

Two dodges as she found an impossible gap between an assault from both of her attackers. The few moments of battle drew out into an eternity, and for a moment she wondered just what the hell Rantaro was doing- If he’d perhaps thought his morals were more important than their survival.

Another dodge, and a cheeky blow to one of their shins that left them cursing, before she ducked under a swipe and grabbed a rock to use as a makeshift projectile. She was just about to curse herself for trusting Rantaro as she heard one single, clear command.

“Maki- Roll!”

Despite all her doubt and all her rage, Maki was consumed by a singular, succinct trust as she broke the flow of combat, opening herself up to her attackers as she rolled.

Surely enough, a gunshot cracked out like the air itself had been split- And one of the suspended treasure chests fell, landing inches away from Maki’s crouched form and directly on top of her attackers, who were rendered unconscious under the mass of tacky false coins and wood splinters.

A smirking Rantaro shuffled over, spinning a smoking handgun in his hand before fumbling with it and dropping it to the ground. “Looks like I get to keep my morals after all.”

Maki was relieved, and maybe just a little proud- But she did her best not to show it. “And what exactly took you so long? It was my neck on the line.”

“Both of ours, actually, since I can hardly fight either if you’d been killed.” He corrected, eliciting a glare from Maki. “But anyways, you clearly aren’t as good as throwing as killing, so I had to grab the thing, then load it with one hand- Which wasn’t easy.”

“Well, you pulled through in the end, at the very least.” Maki mumbled with a pout. “Now, to finish the job…” she said, raising the knife and approaching the unconscious duo.

Rantaro took a step and held his one usable arm on her shoulder. “Please, Maki. I know it’s a lot to ask after all you’ve done for me already, but- Spare them, alright? The exit’s just up there, and the spoils go to whoever finishes first- That should please your donors. The reason I shot down the chest and didn’t aim for one of their heads was so I could keep my morals, no matter how small they might be.”

Maki stood silent, blade trembling slightly in her hands, before she closed her eyes and sighed, sheathing it. “Fine. But if this comes back to bite me, you’ll be the one on the end of the blade.” She took a few steps away, before remembering something.

“Oh. And good luck with your arm.” Glancing back with something between a sneer and genuine smile, she left the maze.

* * *

  
Back in the present, Maki narrowed her eyes at the slightly darker strip of flesh near his wrist. “I guess the bad doctor actually pulled through… At the very least, he does what’s promised- Even if I’ll never be doing any business with him I don’t have to.”

Rantaro lightly took his left arm back, tracing over the scar. “I guess you couldn’t see how it was healing at the beach house under all the bandages, huh? But yeah, it’s more or less just like how it was before the incident- Just with the scar, of course.”

“And the operation was okay?”

Rantaro chuckled. “Depends on your definition of “okay”. Successful? Yes. It was incredibly painful, though. The surgery was about as under the table as you could possibly get so he charged extra for anesthetics. So… Well…”

“You did it without them.” Maki stared in disbelief before exhaling and shaking her head. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.” He replied with a shrug and a smirk. “It was incredibly, incredibly painful… Like needle worms under your skin. He didn’t seem to get any enjoyment out of it, but I think he did kind of find it funny that I was that dedicated to not paying. He kept asking through the whole thing if I’d changed the mind.”

“No surprise he’d want the extra money, considering every interaction I’ve had with him he’s gobbled up everything he could get. Makes you wonder why he hasn’t bought a nicer suit yet if he has so much.”

“I get the feeling he’s the kind of person who wears a suit more as a formality than anything- He’d probably show up in jammies if he could.” Replied Rantaro. “Enough about me and my wounds. What about yours?”

Maki swallowed, hiding her bandaged hand behind her back. “...”

Rantaro sighed, his usual joviality mellowing out into a look of worry. “Maki, c’mon… Please. I hope that you at least trust me enough to tell a little.”

Grinding her teeth together, Maki relented. “I… Lost.”

Rantaro blinked in shock. “You… Lost? Maki, you’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen- You move like falling raindrops! Who the hell could have beat you?”

“A lot of people, apparently.” Said Maki, shoving aside her bristling anger as best she could. “I’m a killer, not a fighter: and it shows.”

Rantaro stood quietly for a moment, before tentatively reaching out and resting his hand in Maki’s shoulder. “You might not be a fighter, but I know for damn sure that you’re a survivor… Like me: I could see it in you from the first conversation. And us survivors will scheme and claw our way, kicking and screaming till the end, right? So let’s do the same here.”

He took a step back, now grinning. “After all, you’re in a place with some of the best teachers you could ask for. Ultimates in combat, after all.”

“Training wouldn’t go well.” Maki answered bitterly. “You do understand that I’m a loner for a reason, right?”

“That sounds like giving up before you’ve even started trying.”

“I’m not giving up.” She growled. “I’m stating fact.”

“Sure, suuure…” He provoked with arms crossed. “I mean, if you’re okay with continuing to lose I guess I am too. I’ll just make some adjustments in my mind to make sure not to remember you as an unstoppable force of nature, and more of someone scared of their own shadow”

Maki instinctively toyed with her sheath as her arms tensed. “You’re just trying to provoke me now.”

“And it’s working, isn’t it?”

“Fuck off.” She said with closed eyes, but the damage was already done. “Who the hell do you want me to talk to?”

“One Sakura Oogami.” He answered. “The Ultimate Martial Artist… Always looking with someone to spar and talk with about the brutal arithmetic of combat. And I know just the perfect person.”

“Fine.” Maki forced out. “But that’s two favors from me, and not a single one from you: this is a give and take relationship, and I’m getting anything right now.”

“Alright, I getcha.” Rantaro appeased. “Even if all of this is for your own good, I suppose you killing me would put a bit of a hitch into my plans. What do you suggest.”

“You’re a people person.” Said Maki simply

“...I wouldn’t describe myself exactly like that, but sure, let’s go with that.”

“And I’m clearly not. My current informant has proven… Unreliable, so I need a better one.”

Rantaro ran his finger along the long line of his scar, like the horizon line of the sky. “You’re asking me to help you out on a hit? Maki, you know that helping you kill, however indirectly- That’s against my morals, right? It’s different in a death maze, but this is a choice I can consciously make.”

“I figured you would say that. Lucky for you, that’s not what I’m talking about.” Maki stared off to the side. “I want you to be an informant to me about my informant. They clearly aren’t doing their job, and I want to see if it’s out of incompetence, malice, or both.”

Rantaro grinned. “Now that is the sort of subterfuge and intrigue I can get along with. Who is this, exactly?”

Maki leaned in and whispered a few names into his ear, to which he nodded. “Ah. That makes sense.”

Pulling back, Maki stared with a glare like laser pointers. “This is sensitive information… I hope you understand me clearly in the amount of trust I’m investing in you. Don’t be an idiot.”

“No promises, but I’ve heard you loud and clear. I might be an idiot… But I’ll be sure to make sure it doesn’t affect you in the process.”

“Not what I asked for, but okay.” Maki swiveled around. “I’m off to see this “Sakura” then. Goodbye.” And with that, Maki strolled off- Having things she still wanted to say, but binding those thoughts in chains and cages.

Maybe she’d eventually realize they would be better free.

It was a short walk to Sakura’s lab and living quarters- After all, it was within the same ultimate combat building. The door to her lab was a grand door fitting of a dojo, and Maki hesitated for one moment- Before knocking on it harshly.

One bronze-skinned Aoi Asahina pulled open the door after a few seconds, with a beaming wholesome smile mixed with some surprise. “Maki! It’s been a while!”

Maki scowled slightly- She hadn’t anticipated running into one of the only other people she had previous experience with here. She didn’t know a shred about Maki’s hidden life, but… Honestly, Maki couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. Aoi’s infectious, overbounding energy was hard to bear when the weight of Maki’s lies crawled along her back with many legs.

“Why are you here.” Maki replied sourly. “I’m looking for the owner of this lab.”

“Well…” Aoi poked her cheek. “Because… I’m her friend, obviously? And I thought we were too! We had such a great time that summer.”

Despite some vindictive part of Maki wanting to, she didn’t pop Aoi’s bubble. “Yeah. We are. I just… Need to see her. It’s important.”

Aoi scrunched her face up in exaggerated pondering. “I mean… Okay. Wait… Are you going to spar with her?”

“How’d you figure?”

“I mean, you are… Really toned. And you did beat Akane pretty effortlessly at the beach house…”

Maki blushed slightly at the compliment, but chided herself for it. “Beating Akane isn’t very hard. You could do it if you tried.”

“I feel like Akane would definitely want to fight you again if you said that around her… But err, you’d probably just beat her again. And you know fighting’s not my thing! I’ve always been a swimmer.”

Maki crossed her arms. “Combat is just the natural escalation of any competition, it’s what happens to it in its most raw state- If you’re friends with Sakura, maybe you should talk to her about it. But I really do have to be seeing her now. You can’t keep talking to me in this doorway forever.”

“Oh. Right.” Aoi blushed. “Alright, come in then.”

Aoi stepped out of the way and Maki moved inside, taking in the entryway of the lab. Everything really was styled after a traditional dojo…

What it must’ve been like, to learn how to fight somewhere like this rather than blood-soaked concrete rooms.

...Must be nice.

“She’s through here.” The two moved into the main room, which was naturally a bit cluttered with training equipment- Dummies, weights… Even practice weapons. Although Sakura seemed to be in the middle of practicing what looked like a fairly complex set of strikes against a dummy, she paused when Maki entered the room.

“Aoi? Who is this?” She uttered in her low, gravelly tone.

“This is Maki.” Aoi chipperly answered. “She said she was here to train with you.”

That seemed to catch her attention. Sakura lumbered over to Maki, and although she towered over her Maki stared up, undaunted. It had been a long time since she’d felt any kind of fear, much less at someone she knew posed no real danger to them.

The two had a bit of a stare down, with Sakura’s eyes trailing over Maki’s body. “What experience do you have?”

Now that was a hard question to answer. She had to lie in some sense, but considering her physique and training it would be hard to pick a story that matched her fake talent.

Maki decided she’d just lowball it. “I‘ve taken some personal defense classes.”

“Just a few?” Sakura seemed to not buy it- Probably noticing the subtle posture and body of a seasoned fighter, but it also didn’t seem like she was pushing it.

“Yes.” Maki replied simply.

Nodding, Sakura moved over to the center of the room and motioned for Maki to follow. “I will need to spar once with you to get a reasonable hold on your skill level.”

The two stood across from one another, and Maki felt fairly uncomfortable in the situation- Just how much could Sakura read her? Would she know just from a simple test of combat that she was a trained killer… And what would she think?

There was also the fact that this sort of duel was squarely out of Maki’s comfort zone. Although in some senses Sakura and Maki were similar, both being honed masters of bloodshed- Their methods and motives could not be more different. In the simplest sense, Sakura was honorable and laudable, somebody who fought only to better themselves and hone their skills. Maki was a dirty thug in comparison, someone who used violence and viciousness to exact the whims of her cruel masters. Maki fought dirty, biting into her opponent’s flesh, kicking up dirt or taking cheap shots.

Maki fought to win, not to make friends- And she wondered how that would translate into a duel with someone who fought for a completely opposite reason.

After a few moments of readying themselves, the two clashed. Maki definitely got the feeling that Sakura was pulling her punches- Which wasn’t surprising, especially given what Maki said about her experience, but she couldn’t help but feeling slightly insulted regardless. 

Such a capable opponent was refreshing, in some sense- As was fighting without the expectation that somebody would walk away bloodless on the floor. But after only a dozen or so seconds of combat Maki felt a sharp pain in her injury from her battle earlier today, stumbling backward in the middle of their confrontation.

Maki winced as Sakura towered over her- Expecting a potential dismissal for her weakness. Instead, she spoke somewhat gingerly.

“You’re injured?”

“It’s nothing.” Maki grunted. “Let’s continue.”

Sakura gestured to her hand, which the bandage had unwrapped from in the scuffle- Exposing the tender, bloody flesh like a paper stained by red marker. “You’re hungry. That’s good.”

She crossed her arms. “But I won’t make the same mistake twice. I’ve had a partner who was more ravenous for improvement than anyone else… He pushed himself till he split down the middle. Seek treatment, then return.”

“I said I’m fine.” Maki growled, re-applying the bandage. “You think I don’t have it in me to keep fighting like this?”

“Quite the opposite. I’m very confident you would fight until the last drop of blood had been exsanguinated from your body- But nothing will come of trying to improve yourself in this state.”

“I’m not going to-“ Maki was interrupted by Sakura walking over to her, picking her up carefully and slinging Maki over her shoulder.

“Hey!” Maki protested, pounding on her back. “What are you doing?”

“Taking you to the medic, since you clearly don’t intend to on your own.”

Maki scowled, contemplating her options as Sakura began carrying her out of the room, leaving a bewildered Aoi behind. She could’ve easily wrenched herself out of Sakura’s grasp one way or another, but… Despite her unwillingness to seek someone else for medical care, she didn’t particularly want to come off as more hot-blooded than she already had, especially to someone she might train with in the future.

After all, despite what Maki had thought might happen, Sakura did say that after seeking medical attention, she could return and they would begin in earnest. Strangely enough, she’d been more concerned about her injury than the fact she’d shown so much weakness.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way I can convince you to not go through with this.” Maki muttered.

“If you still wish to train with me, no.” Sakura replied stoically. At this point, Maki would almost have rather Sakura just beat her into a bloody pulp.

“Can you at least set me down? I'm not going to run off.” Maki grumbled. After a moment of contemplation, Sakura hesitantly set her down as if expecting her to bolt at any moment.

But Maki stayed, walking beside her while fiddling with her bow. “So you’re still willing to train me?”

“You say that as if it’s surprising to you. There would be no reason for me to overlook such a talented sparring partner who wishes to improve.”

“I just figured the way I fought would be… Strange to you.” Maki ground her teeth back and forth subconsciously.

“A certain level of strangeness is necessary.” Sakura explained- And now that Maki had listened to her for a bit, she noticed the subtle shifts in her voice that were previously hidden by its gravelly exterior. At this moment, she was contemplative… Wistful, even. Scarred face painted with reflection like a still lake. “It is too easy to become complacent when you face opponents who are similar- A breath of new strategy can help me just as much as you.”

Sakura tilted her head and smiled slightly. “That is what I meant by you being ''Hungry” . I have fought many fighters who I felt were inhibited by the knowledge that the competition wasn’t actually life or death, and as such didn’t offer their all. But… You fight as if every blow may be your last: that is good.”

Maki allowed herself to smile just a bit as well… Before stopping. If she’d gleaned that much just from their confrontation, could it be possible she had suspicions of what Maki actually did? If she suspected Maki actually was an assassin… Then no matter how much she hated it, she might need to dispose of her.

But how? It was unlikely she could take her one on one, especially in her current state- If she got the drop on her right now and fought particularly dirty, she might…

“You look troubled.” Sakura interrupted Maki’s train of thought, just as she was reaching for her hidden sheath. “I understand why you lied: it could be… Troubling to admit you grew up on the streets and had to fend for yourself. At least, that is the conclusion I make from your fighting style.”

Maki blinked, the tension releasing from her body… And a growling self-hate ravaging the back of her mind. She really was an animal… Rabid, destructive and uncontained. She’d nearly lashed out and killed someone she had begun taking a liking to, someone who could help her- All over the smallest of suspicions!

Hadn’t she just told Rantaro people didn’t jump to the conclusion of someone being an assassin that easily?

Maki did her best to smother the ever-returning thoughts, who always came back like cockroaches. If there ever was a time for them- Now certainly wasn’t it.

“Well, I grew up in an orphanage.” Maki said, falling back on her familiar excuses. “Conflict was inevitable. I liked to think I was a vigilante or something, back then. Sticking up for the kids who couldn’t do it themselves.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but she certainly wasn’t telling the truth either.

“I don’t see how someone as capable as yourself would become so off of some childhood scuffles.”

“No, certainly not.” Maki replied with melancholy- In some ways, these fabrications of hers were almost what she’d like her life to be. “But that set the precedent going forward. Being hot-blooded and in an impoverished area got me into scuffles I could’ve probably avoided. From there, well… The rest is history.”

Sakura smiled to herself. “It always gladdens me to hear the stories of others who are so invested within martial arts- To only think of it in the most professional sense is a disservice, indeed. Correct me if I’m misinformed, however…” Sakura turned with a soft, searching expression uncharacteristic for her. “You sought me out to rid your style of some of those influences, correct? Your brash offensive tendencies.”

“It was that obvious, huh?” 

“For those who care to listen, the whispers of a clash reveal much of its participants. It is only natural- After all, the only act more close and full of passion than a heated duel is love itself. Of course, the conditions of a confrontation often make it difficult to perceive these things, but our first skirmish was as much to test your reasons as it was your ability.”

“Even after seeing through me, you’re still going through this?”

“Yours is a heart full of anger: that much I can tell…. But not of malice, despite how you might think. It is my belief that someone with a heart like yours could never be so.”

Maki chuckled sadly. “Maybe you didn’t get as good of a read as you thought, then.”

“I would contest that, but I’m afraid that’s a fight I have no chance to win. At least, for the moment. Besides, we’ve arrived.” Sakura stopped in front of the human care building, exchanging a slightly saddened look with Maki. “I will not go so far as to make absolutely sure you seek attention, but know that I will never train with you until you are at your best again.”

Maki didn’t care to correct that her best was already far, far behind her. “I get it.” She replied stubbornly. “After all this, even someone like me wouldn’t run from what you’ve recommended.”

Sakura smirked, her scar shifting like a dancing blade. “Although the instinct to reject relying on others is natural, it is also dangerous. Remember that.” And with that, she turned and left Maki to her rabid thoughts.

Maki certainly wasn’t looking forward to her confrontation with whatever medically-minded ultimate she’d find inside: she’d never had a good experience with doctors. In her orphanage days it felt like the doctors her and her siblings visited treated them more like cattle than patients to be individually respected and cared for- And recently, well…

She only ended up in the care of any scrupulous medical professionals when the situation absolutely required it, and as such a lot of questions arose about what she’d gone through and why she was there- After all, a girl arriving with a gunshot wound and all of her bills paid for with no insurance was guaranteed to raise some eyebrows.

Worse still was when they saw her scars… More scars than any person should reasonably ever have, and how she hid all the ones that weren’t covered by clothing with concealer. Most probably assumed she was yakuza, and in a sense they weren’t completely wrong… Sometimes, they would even try to console her, offering a way out of her life.

They could never understand how empty those promises really were.

Well, all Maki could do is look forward and hope this wouldn’t be like every other time… Even if she never was a glass half-full kind of person. Creeping into the ultimate nurse’s lab, the first person she spotted was somebody who most definitely wasn’t the ultimate nurse.

Short, childlike… Maki had a very hard time believing she met the age requirements for being an ultimate. She had two yellow twintails like bananas, and wore a fairly ornate kimono.

“You’re not the medic, are you?” Maki said with crossed arms.

The kimono girl leaned forward with a shadowy malice in her eyes. “Do I look like the sort of person who would dirty myself with something like that, you edgy bitch? You’re insulting me just by asking that question.”

Maki blinked, before closing her eyes and sighing. “Here’s what’s going to happen: both of us are going to pretend you didn’t say that, and start off on a better note- For your sake. Am I understood?” Maki spoke with a perfectly level tone, completely unscathed by any emotion.

The dancer opened her mouth, before closing it and nodding. Clearly, the sheer authority by which Maki had commanded had struck her- Even if Maki just didn’t want to be bothered with dealing with such a petty bully right now.

Maki pinched her brow in annoyance. “Alright, can you take me to the actual nurse, please? There’s something we need to discuss.”

“Y-yeah, sure…” she mumbled, fear corrupting her voice like an ink spill on paper. “It’s.. Hiyoko, by the way.”

Closing her eyes for a moment and inhaling, she seemed to get her wits back about her as she opened a door and leaned into it. “Mikan! Someone’s here to see you!” She singsonged

“Oh? Really?” A shrill voice called out, followed by a huge crash as it sounded like “Mikan” had made a huge mess. Hiyoko rolled her eyes, looking very annoyed, but- Maki’s deft eyes spotted just a bit of happiness in her expression, too.

“Give me a second to help the clutz.” She said as she moved into the room.

Maki waited a few seconds, before Hiyoko dragged a very disheveled looking Mikan out to greet Maki…

And Maki immediately got the enthralling urge to punch something very hard.

Why? WHY? Why was it that no matter how small a part of her life it was, no matter how much it had been tossed aside and practically lobotomized from her, why did her time back at the orphanage keep rearing its ugly head?

If god existed, he must have hated Maki… If reincarnation was real, she must have been truly wicked in her past life. It wasn’t enough to be forced to kill and endure so much hardship… But to also be constantly reminded of what she had, and consequently lost.

Because the very flummoxed girl who wobbled out of the doorway was undoubtedly someone Maki had lost a long, long time ago.

It was well past their meeting time, and Maki still couldn’t find Mikan.

Admittedly, she’d never been the type of person to show up on-time to… Anything, really. Whether it be class or mandatory assemblies for everyone in the orphanage, she was almost always the one to come sniveling in last… Usually with her hair in even more of a mess than usual, and tear-stains down her eyes.

It was a long time ago when Maki had been assigned against her will to “Mikan Duty”, which meant tracking her down whenever she was somewhere other than she was supposed to be (Which was more often than it really should’ve been) At first, it was annoying. But as Maki usually did with all of the misfits here, she got attached fairly quickly.

But this was different, because it was a meeting just between the two of them- And with things concerning Maki, she at the very least made more of an attempt to keep all her ends in order and show up on time… Sort of. No matter the circumstances, Mikan was still Mikan, which meant you still needed to assume you’d be waiting on her for a bit.

All of that being said, it was never this bad- At least, when it was her usual klutzy, paranoid nature to blame. When she was this late, well… Maki pretty much already knew what to expect. 

The location varied, but it was fairly easy to find her if you just wandered around the orphanage grounds for a bit and listened for the eventual cries and apologies… Which everyone else seemed to ignore. Maybe it was just that Mikan’s bullying was just that normal.

It was a cycle, a cycle that Maki didn’t think she could break no matter how she tried- Not that she would stop trying, for she was a stubborn sort. People bullied Mikan because she was an easy target, but also because she was annoying- And her being annoying came from her being bullied. Even Maki once (And still sometimes today) Found her annoying, even if she never had the slightest thought of picking on her for some reason.

She traced the source of the cries to a small patch of worn trail in a forest a little bit off from the orphanage, where Mikan was on the ground- Leaves and branches in her hair, with it cut to awkward angles and splotchy bruises on her face. Above her was a crowd of young boys (Who both Maki and the adults had chastised over and over for this sort of thing) Who were laughing and kicking her, of course.

Maki stood at the edge of the scene and ground her teeth, contemplating her options- Before she cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention.

Mikan glanced up with adorable, teary eyes- Before shaking her head slightly at Maki, who simply hardened her glare and shook her head back.

“Oh, if it isn’t miss miserly’s girlfriend!” One of the bullies taunted. “Come here to play house again?”

“G-guys, you should really just listen to what she has to say…” Mikan whimpered, before one of them put their heel down on her neck.

“Worried your savior will get hurt?” Another one said- Not knowing that Mikan was saying that for their sake, not Maki’s. She always hated it when Maki hurt people for her sake, but…

It didn’t take long for Maki to realize that sometimes, violence really was the answer when she started stepping in to help people. She could always get by on her own, since she was never attacked directly. But at the end of the day, Maki was a kind individual who did certainly very unkind things for the sake of kindness.

Maki drew her mouth into a long, thin line, like a knife edge. “Just release Mikan, and I can take you guys to the counselor. Trust me, I’m going to do much worse than she ever could.”

“What, is that a threat? You might’ve won a fight or two before, but there’s no way you can win three on one!”

Mikan pleadingly stared with Maki again, shaking her head vigorously- To which Maki didn’t even respond. Pinching her brow, Maki sighed. “Alright then. Make sure you tell the administrators you’re the ones who started this.”

Maki crouched down, grabbing a clump of mud in her hand from the recent rainfall and throwing it squarely into one of their eyes, causing him to yell out. “You fucking bitch!” He stumbled around, clawing at his face to get the muck out of his eyes.

His friends rushed forward to avenge Maki’s cheap shot- And they even got in a hit or two as Maki grabbed a particularly thick branch, sweeping it low and ramming it with as much force as she could into one of their kneecaps.

The injury to his knee caused him to yelp before falling over- Which meant there was the one who was still digging the mud out of his eyes and then the last capable fighter. He struck hard and fast, knocking the wind out of Maki… But the pain merely sharpened her resolve as she let him follow through, grabbing his arm and yanking him forward, then biting down hard into his flesh.

The taste of blood was bitter and coppery, but she kept her teeth down as he writhed in agony. While he was still exposed, she raised up her knee and repeatedly thrust it into his stomach.

When she released him, he fell just like the rest. That left the one who had finally gotten the filth out of his eyes- Who pulled out a switchblade from his back pocket.

Oh.

Well, Maki certainly couldn’t back down now. As he lunged with a thrust of the knife, Maki did something stupid-

She reached out and grabbed the knife, the sharp side digging into her palm.

His eyes widened in surprise, long enough for Maki to combine an elbow hit and pull of the knife to wrench it out of his grasp. It was brutal, as she felt the flesh of her palm pushed to each side and her tendons being exposed to air-

But it worked. She got the knife out of his hand, and in his moment of vulnerability kicked him solidly in the dick with the force of a hundred cannons. Compared to his friends who fell with more grace, he collapsed as if all the energy had left his body at once.

Surrounded by bullies crying out in pain, Maki casually strolled over to the prone Mikan. She dropped the switchblade to the ground as tepid blood oozed out of her hand, before saying “Let’s go.”

Mikan took her hand- the non-bloodied one, that is- And the two moved out of the forest and back toward the orphanage, with Maki off-balance a bit from the few injuries she’d sustained.

“I kept telling you not to get involved!” Mikan complained, face red from tears and overexertion. “I kept shaking my head, over and over!”

Maki snorted, pressing her hand into her shirt to wipe off some of the blood. “Oh please. I’d rather shove my hand into a woodchipper than leave you by yourself after seeing you like that.”

“But you should’ve!” Mikan protested, before grabbing Maki’s hand and wrenching it off of her shirt. “A-and don’t do that! It’s unsanitary, and you’ll stain your shirt… Again. Here. I have bandages.” 

To Maki’s amazement, Mikan reached into the bag she always carried with her and retrieved a roll of gauze- After fumbling with it and almost dropping it, of course.

“You carry that around everywhere?” Maki asked with a raised eyebrow.

“This e-entire bag is just medical supplies- Because of you!” She squealed while wrapping up Maki’s hand. “I can’t go anywhere without you getting yourself hurt!”

“It’s either I get hurt or you get hurt.”

“B-but I know how to treat my own injuries!”

Maki reached out, grabbing Mikan’s wrist and holding it tightly, forcing her to lock eyes. “You don’t deserve any of this. That’s why I do it.”

“And you do?” In that moment, her wide and sparkling eyes really looked like a harmless kitten.

Maki shrugged, releasing her wrist. “I’m just that kind of person who will fight to the bitter end for what they believe in.”

“But… Why do you believe in me?”

Maki stopped for a moment, looking over Mikan. They were just kids… They were just kids, and yet she had to go through so much.

“There’s a lot of reasons- But I don’t think anyone who’s been around you and seen what you can do would treat you like everyone does. Remember that cat? The one that got partially run over? It seemed hopeless, but you managed to nurse it back to health.”

“That was nothing… You do a lot better, rushing in to help people in need and teaching all of the younger kids… I could never work up the courage to do any of that. You’re going to grow up to be a police officer who helps people just as much…”

“Really?” Maki cracked a smile. “That doesn’t seem so bad: but I guarantee you’ll become one hell of a doctor.”

  
Back in the present, Mikan and Maki stood silently, staring one another down, till they both lost their nerve and glanced off to the side.

Hiyoko glanced between the two of them with an upturned lip. “...Are you two idiots okay? You just look like your dogs got run over.”

Maki narrowed her eyes. “What did I just tell you? And… No. It’s nothing.” It clearly wasn’t nothing, and Maki hated that it probably showed on her face like prey illuminated by moonlight. But… It’s not like there was much she could do about this. The last link to her humanity was back in that place, and now the most important part of it had returned….

“She just reminds me of someone, that’s all.” Maki finished.

“U-Ummm, me too…” Mikan added on.

With a look between confusion and disgust, Hiyoko threw up her arms in exasperation. “Problem solved then, right? Long lost friends found. Yay.”

“Reminds me.” Maki clarified. “There’s no way she can be who I’m talking about.” In reality, Maki knew with certainty this was her, but… The last thing she needed right now was to confirm the suspicions Mikan already probably had.

“Uhhh… Same h-here.” Mikan timidly stammered.

Hiyoko exhaled loudly in exasperation before face palming. “Whatever. You two are ridiculous- I’m going to go practice at my lab.” Hiyoko hesitated for a second, before glancing back toward Mikan. “See you tomorrow, Mikan.”

Mikan beamed with a heart warming smile. “Okay!”

Hiyoko shook her head with the slightest smirk, before heading off… Leaving the two long-separated friends to their own devices.

“I remind you of someone, huh?” Maki knew she shouldn’t be digging any deeper than she already had for fear of Mikan finding out the truth… But something aching within her egged her to press on.

“Oh, yes…” Mikan smiled sadly. “It’s been so long, I’ve even forgotten her name… I-I’ve always been bad with them. We, Erm… Were really close, but then she had to leave. I still don’t really know why.”

Maki had been the closest so far in that moment to brazenly exposing her cover- Telling her where she’d gone, and why she’d left so suddenly.

But no, she couldn’t. She couldn’t, because… Even if she only was trying to survive, it wasn’t just for herself. She still had to protect that place, and besides…

Wouldn’t Mikan just hate her if she knew the truth?

Mikan seemed to become even more uncomfortable at the sight of Maki’s suddenly darkened expression. “A-Anyways… What did you come to see me about?”

Maki bit down hard, using the sensation of her teeth slamming together to ground herself back in the present- She had to get a grip. “I have a bit of an injury. You’re good with those sorts of things, right?”

“Oh, of course! It’s, umm… One of the few things I’m good for, after all. C-can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Maki paused for a second, wondering how she was going to phrase this that didn’t involve explaining she repeatedly punched a wall. “...I had an… Accident with my hand that left a lot of cuts, and also a few places where I’ve bruised pretty heavily.”

“What? P-please tell me you disinfected it properly!” Without even asking, Mikan lunged forward and began unwrapping the bandage around Maki’s hand…

Maki had almost struck her completely out of instinct- After all, how was she supposed to react whenever someone lunged at her so suddenly? She supposed that if one thing never changed, it was Mikan being thoroughly unaware of the situation around her.

“Oh… Oh this is really bad. There’s even wood splinters still embedded into the flesh! Didn’t anyone ever tell you to take care of yourself?”

“...Yeah, somebody used to remind me a lot. I guess I never listened.”

“I… Stand right here, please! Don’t run off!” Mikan dashed off, stumbling and nearly tripping before scurrying away to probably find some disinfectant and clean gauze.

Perhaps if Maki were a hateful person, she’d resent Mikan for forgetting her name. But she knew that she was always bad with remembering things, especially names (Unless the subject happened to be related to medical trivia) and truthfully, Maki wished she could forget so easily as well.

It wasn’t all that surprising that Mikan had become the ultimate nurse… It seemed obvious now that the fact was staring Maki in the face. After all, she’d certainly had the passion and talent.

Most troubling was that the only person who knew the oldest scars Maki had other than herself, was… Well, Mikan. After all, she’d always been the one to be there to patch them up. It was easy to just dismiss what deja vu she might’ve felt around Maki as coincidence, but dismissing identical scars wouldn’t be as easy.

Mikan came tumbling back just as quickly, beginning to clean and bandage the wound right there in the middle of the hallway.

“...Shouldn’t we be doing this somewhere else?”

“Oh!” Mikan seemed slightly startled by the realization. “Y-yes, of course…. Sorry…”

Maki was led off to one of the private, comfortable rooms, where she could properly sit down and have Mikan care for her tender and ravaged flesh.

Mikan looked… Upset while staring at Maki’s inflamed palm.

“Something the matter?” Asked Maki.

“W-well, it’s just… I don’t see how someone can get hurt so quickly after getting here. I’m happy to help, but… You do really need to take better care of yourself.”

“Do you tell that to everyone who comes to see you?”

“Of course not! Well…” She stared down at the ground. “I don’t think so, anyways.”

“You should be more careful about handing out your sympathy to people. Some people… Some people are just terrible. People who will leave you and never say why.”

Mikan perked up, eyes twinkling with thought as she tilted her head at Maki. “I… Well, they probably have their reasons, right….? It’s my fault if I let them get away.”

Maki scoffed “You’re making them seem like a mouse you’re trying to keep as a pet.”

“Well… As a medical professional, I can say that… People are a lot more like animals then they like to admit. Vicious, bloodthirsty, territorial….”

“That doesn’t sound like something that you learn from medical knowledge.”

She shook her head with a sad smile. “No, I… Guess I know from experience. But it’s not all bad. Some people are really kind, despite the animal within.”

“And some people let themselves be consumed by it.”

“I… Guess so. But everyone should remember that considering their flaws at all makes them better than those who don’t. I… Erm, need to lift your shirt to see the bruises… May I?”

Maki hesitated. As much as she was concerned Mikan would recognize some of the old scars she had under there, she didn’t want to come off as any more of an uptight weirdo as she probably already had. But… There was some other hesitation there, too, that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Sure.” Maki got out after a few seconds of awkward silence.

Mikan gently lifted up her shirt, and Maki winced as she carefully caressed her injuries. “T-this is, um… Worse than I thought… You may even have some internal bleeding… What event caused this?”

“I...Fell?”

Clearly Mikan wasn’t buying it, but she let it slide regardless as she tended to Maki. The rest of their conversation was short and tangential- Mostly small talk, and Mikan seemed to be lost in thought about something. Maki, as always, was tight-lipped, only talking if she really found the situation called for it.

When Mikan was finished, she stared at Maki with the most stalwart expression Maki had seen from her yet. “Now… You need rest.”

“But…”

“No buts.” Mikan pouted. “This is unarguable, as your caretaker- you’re staying in this bed at least until dinner.”

“I…”

“No.” Mikan shook her head. “I have things to attend to, but I better not have found out you tried to sneak out, alright?”

With that, Mikan stood and left the room- Leaving Maki to her plight of thoughts and contemplation. 

Fortunately, or, perhaps unfortunately, actually- She wasn’t alone for long, as an unwelcome visitor made an unusual… Mystical entrance just a few minutes after Mikan’s departure.

With a crash, the ventilation duct above her swung open and out came tumbling a blur of black and red. Maki didn’t even have time to react as they fell right on top of her- And she came face to face with light red eyes and a cherubic face.

“Nyeh.”

Maki instinctively thrashed around as if she were in a grapple, and the small girl managed to actually hold on quite well- Although she did let out a somewhat muted long “Nyeh” all the while.

“Caaaaaalm!” She enunciated with a grand amount of emphasis, and probably would’ve made some vague hand gestures to go along if she wasn’t hanging on for dear life.

Strangely enough, the odd incantation did have some sort of a calming influence on Maki- But it was probably just realizing that the girl on her was anything but a threat. At the very least, it got her to stop thrashing about like a caged beast.

“What- Who even are you? How did you get here?”

“I got here because of maaaaagic.” She exclaimed while waving her hands about. “And I am Himiko Yumeno, grand ultimate mage!”

“That’s not an ultimate title.”

“...It is.”

“I’m assured it isn’t.”

“Maybe you didn’t read all of them.”

“I did, and there’s only a wizard and a magician.”

“...I’m the wizard.”

“Somebody named Mikado is the wizard.”

“We share a title.”

“That’s not how that works.”

“There’s two ultimate detectives.”

“It doesn’t take an ultimate detective to see you’re bluffing here.”

Himiko finally relented, scrambling around for her hat which she lost in the scuffle- Only so she could pull it down and pout. “I might be called the ultimate magician, but I’m really the ultimate mage…”

Maki sighed. “You still didn’t answer how you got here- And please, get off my lap.”

“I told you, it was magic-“

“You clearly fell out of the air vent.”

“But how did I get up there, though? That was magic.”

“That’s what I’m asking.” Maki narrowed her eyes. “You’re still on my lap.”

“It’s really comfy.”

“Do you want to die?”

“Not really…”

“That was rhetorical. Get off my lap.”

“Nyeh, Nah.”

“Get. Off. My. Lap.”

“Raising your voice is mean…” Himiko mumbled into Maki as she curled up on top of her.

“I….” Maki began, before stopping as she suddenly realized something.

In just an instant, the little mage had fallen asleep, looking peaceful as can be- A kind of peace that brought back some very old memories of similar kids in bunk beds next to hers.

It was the perfect opportunity to shove her off, but….

….There was something so despicable about ruining this moment that even Maki couldn’t bear to do it. 

So despite herself, Maki laid back, staring up at the listlessly twirling ceiling fan and sensing a similar kind of pointless cycle within herself, running and grinding and never stopping. And soon enough, she found herself…

Drifting…

Away….

  
For most people, the transition from sleep to waking should usually be a gentle one, where their consciousness gradually returns to them and they drift away from the unnatural and chaotic realm of dreams to the grounded and perhaps boring one of reality.

But for Maki, that hadn’t been the way she’d awoken for most of her life. She snapped from one to another in an instant like a rubber band pulled too tight- After all, many of the times she’d been pulled to waking was because she’d sensed an unwelcome visitor in her room.

This was one of those times- And even worse was the fact she was in an unfamiliar room. Himiko was long gone, but there was a shadowy figure in the corner, the light of the late day only casting tiny light against their form.

But as Maki quickly scanned them and realized who they were, she didn’t feel the need to draw her knife, and relaxed ever so slightly- Although still far too tense compared to most.

“I didn’t peg you as the type who watches girls as they sleep.” Maki growled.

“Hey, we both know it’s certainly not for any sort of creepy reason. Well… At least not for any typical one.” Rantaro Amami stepped out of the corner, the sunken light of sundown painting him with eerie reds and twisted black shadows. But strangely enough, Maki almost felt… Comforted by his presence.

She’d never admit it to anyone, though.

“It doesn’t have to be sexual to be creepy.” Maki bit back. “You could’ve woken me if you wanted to talk.”

“And have a knife pressed at my throat for the second time today? No thanks.” Rantaro grinned, teeth flashing in the soft sunset light. “I think a fly landing on you while you sleep would spend you spinning through the air, knife in hand.”

Maki sighed. “You’re not wrong- But that nearly happened regardless. Standing in the corner like a creep isn’t much better.”

Rantaro chuckled lightly “There’s a chance of that happening any time I’m around you, Maki- At this point I think I’m probably magnetic to knives.” He rested his fingers on his chin in thought. “Although I guess it’s just a possibility of being killed when I’m around you.”

“That’s why I never understand why you choose to stick around.”

“Honestly?” He gave a serious look. “I think if I told you, all it’d make you is confused and angry”. 

“That’s a very simple way to explain how I am  
All the time.”

Rantaro smiled. “If you say so. You did… Look just a bit more like a regular girl when you slept, though.”

“Do you want to die?” Maki narrowed her eyes into pinpricks. “Why are you even here?”

“Honestly? I was worried. I was looking all over for you… The ultimates are having a huge dinner party, and I’m not letting you skip out of this one. When I couldn’t find you, I figured… You know.”

“You should know by now I’m not stupid enough to get myself killed.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t change the fact you’re in a profession that is all about people getting killed- And it goes both ways.”

“I think god wants me to suffer more before he kills me.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in god.”

“No, but if he does exist he’s the biggest asshole ever.”

Rantaro chuckled. “That’s so like you to say. But… Why are you here, exactly? I thought you hated doctors.”

“I do. Unfortunately, your advice caused me to have to put that aside for just a bit. Sakura… Wasn’t too pleased that I was pushing myself.”

“You actually followed my advice?”

“Don’t act so surprised- The one thing that makes you worth keeping around is the grounded way you approach things.”

“Do you regret talking to her, then?”

Maki glanced off to the side. “Not… Exactly. The circumstances have made me uncomfortable, but also… Strangely comforted. Besides, there’s a rather important revelation I learned.”

“And that is?”

“You can’t help but pry, can you? Well, whatever. The one… The one I did all of this for. She’s still alive. And the ultimate nurse to boot.”

Rantaro’s eyes sharpened slightly. “Funny thing about that… I’ve learned that the more you try to run from your past, the more it clings to you like a blood starved leech. And yet, the moment you embrace it- It scurries away to hide like a cockroach. Weird how that works, huh?”

“I know I’m already probably prying a little too much already, so… I’m not going to ask any further unless you want to tell.”

“Of course you would say that the one time I actually want to talk about this with someone.” Maki wrapped her arms around herself tightly.

“Mikan Tsumiki, the ultimate nurse… When we were both kids at the orphanage, we were inseparable. I got beat up, and she patched me up. Then, I’d have to fight again to protect her. It was a sort of positive feedback loop, but… It was nice, in a weird sort of way.”

“And you didn’t notice the fact she was on the list of ultimates?”

“Mikan… Mikan isn’t exactly the most rare of names anyways, and you have to realize that I’m usually actively trying to repress these things. It’s true that if I saw her first and last name I probably would’ve freaked out, but she doesn’t have the same last name she used to.”

“Huh. I figured you’d keep up with her, even while being an assassin- Enough to know her new last name, at least.”

“I… Did. Much to my own chagrin.” Maki rested a hand on her temples and sighed in frustration. “But she was supposed to be dead. I thought… I thought she flung herself into a burning car wreck, throwing herself into wanton danger for people who probably didn’t even care about her like she always does. Hell, I even saw the scene on the news.”

“So she faked her own death.”

“She’s not smart enough to do that!” Maki quickly retorted, before groaning. “No, that’s… Not what I mean. She’s smart, way smarter than me- And in some cases, even deadly cunning. But she isn’t the type of person to do that, I know for sure.”

“So somebody else faked her death.”

“I don’t know!” Maki suddenly cried out. “I… Don’t know. I just learned about this, and all these thoughts are jumbling around in my head like a gumball machine. I hate it when things are this complicated.”

“You’d just rather know the target and take them out, huh?”

“You’re not helping.”

Rantaro winced. “I’m Sorry. That… That was in poor taste, especially when you’re willing to share any of this with me in the first place. If you don’t mind, could you… Could you tell me how you two even got into this situation? From orphan buddies, to… An assassin and a nurse.”

“The truth is, originally she was the candidate for recruitment by the holy salvation society.”

“That… Seems odd. From what I’ve seen of Mikan, she doesn’t exactly seem like killer material.”

“There’s so much more to being able to take lives than being strong. I mentioned this earlier, but there’s this sort of… Desperate, cunning part of Mikan that hangs onto her personality like a parasite. If you could just prune out her caring side and gorge the other with blood and pain, you’d have a valuable asset.”

“And you… And you stepped up to the plate in her stead?”

Maki smiled sadly. “I mean… How could I not? I knew she might be able to make it, but… I didn’t want her to go through that. And even if she did make it through, she’d be so changed, she… Might as well have just died anyways. It’s always been me taking the hits for her, and I didn’t want that to change. Even… Even in the end.”

“Do you think she’d feel the same way if she knew who you’d become?”

“...” Maki kept quiet for a moment with a weary, pained expression. “I don’t really want to think about that right now. At… At the very least, I don’t think she realized who I was.”

“I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit. Or, more accurately… You aren’t giving yourself enough credit. Don’t you think you had enough of an impact on her that she’d remember you? “

“That… That would actually be terrible, you know. For once, I’m trying to be an optimist.”

“Optimism isn’t ignoring the truth, Maki, it’s facing it head on and still keeping your happiness, even through the harshest weathering winds of change that would like nothing more than to steal it away.”

“You don’t have to treat everything like you’re a poet, Rantaro. You-“ Makin suddenly stopped, narrowing her eyes and raising her lips to expose her canines.

Rantaro opened his mouth to say something, before Maki quickly and silently got out of the bed and pressed her finger over his mouth, whispering in his ear.

“Someone’s eavesdropping.”

“Are you sure? How would you even-“ He answered back quietly, before Maki drew her knife and quickly opened and leapt out the door in one fluid motion.

The shadow of a person she fought was fast, but Maki was faster- Like a blood starved bat whose claws and fangs twisted to find their mark. In no time at all, she had them against the wall.

The hood of their ghillie cloak slipped down, and Maki finally got a solid look at their face. Dark green hair, like Rantaro’s but more like the shade of dark oak leaves rather than an avocado, messy and tostled in a short cut, and piercing purple eyes that spoke with a very clear malicious intent.

Maki was seconds from ending the unfortunate witness right then and there when Rantaro came from behind and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t. We can work this out.”

“And leave another witness? No thanks.”

“It’s… I…” Rantaro closed his eyes and sighed. “I know her. She’s my sister.”

Maki glanced back with something between shock and annoyance. “Are you serious?”

Rantaro’s sister wriggled underneath Maki’s grasp. “Just let her do her thing, Rantaro. I don’t want you to owe me.”

“So being indebted to me is worse than death, huh….” Rantaro mumbled. “Well, let’s just say this one doesn’t count.”

“Rantaro, you know I just can’t make an exception. You’re different because you’re a client, and also… Well, you.”

“What do I have to do.” He said simply.

“There’s nothing-“

Rantaro’s eyes sharpened into glacial pinpricks. “What do I have to do.”

For just a moment, something human managed to crawl it’s way into Maki’s heart of broken glass and make her hesitate… And succumb. Gripping the handle of her knife tightly, she stepped back and sheathed it. “Just… Just know that if being indebted to you is bad, being indebted to me is far worse.” Maki shot a searing glare at the two plant-haired half-siblings. “But just understand that this in no way means either of you are off the hook. If anything about this gets out, both of you are on the chopping block. Now, you-“ Maki pointed the blade at Rantaro’s sister. “Who are you, and what were you doing here?”

“Erro Morrigan.” Erro spoke with a sort of vile that Maki could tell didn’t run too deep- Like the bark on a tree. “I’m here as the ultimate hunter. And… When I went to go check up on my half-brother, I overheard something I shouldn’t. Is that good enough for you?”

“She’s lying.” Rantaro said flatly. “She wouldn’t touch me with a ten foot pole- I think “Spying” would fit more than anything out of kindness or sisterly love.”

Erro hissed, and Maki stiffened her glare at Rantaro. “Are you sure you want to keep her around?”

“Positive. You might not understand, but sometimes… You don’t need reciprocation to care for someone dearly.”

“I hate you.” Seethed Erro. 

“Love you too.”

Maki sighed pinching her brow. “Alright, alright. Can you both guarantee to me this stays quiet? I don’t want to go through the trouble of killing you two as much as you two don’t want to die.”

“Fine.” Said Erro.

Rantaro shrugged. “You already know I’ll keep quiet.”

“Now scram.” Maki shooed Erro. “Don’t let me change my mind.”

As Erro left, Maki got a good look- A ghillie mantle covering half of her body, with the rest of it in comfortable camoflauged gear. After Maki confirmed she had really left, she turned back to Rantaro.

“What was that all about?”

“It’s… Complicated.”

“Isn’t it always with you?”

“More or less, yeah… Erm, as you can probably guess from her name and features… And the fact she’s a half-sister if mine, she’s a foreigner… From Europe, actually. She was one of the first people I found in my quest for all my sisters, and, well…”

“She seems ungrateful.”

“She has her reasons, not all of which I want to go into. But a large part of it is that I remind her of our dad, which… Isn’t the worst comparison, honestly. Much as I loathe the guy, I’m also alike him in more ways than I care to admit. If things turned out differently, I might be just like it.”

“And what kind of person wears full camoflauge everywhere?”

“Erro, clearly. She’s… She’s not good with people. But, mostly she’s just… Not good with technology.”

“Being bad with computers isn’t something very important to note.”

“No, I mean… She very much dislikes modern trappings. Hate is a strong word, but… It might fit here.”

“And why was she spying, exactly?”

“Still complicated. I of course wouldn’t know exactly, but… She’s probably looking for some sort of reason to justify her loathing for me. And out of context, that conversation…”

“Are you sure you don’t want her dead?”

“Trust me Maki, as easier as this would make everything, I’ll bet my life on her character. She’s… She’s a good kid.”

“That doesn’t mean much- I bet you’d call me a “Good kid”, too.”

Rantaro gave a knowing, thawing smile. “You are a good kid, Maki- And I think you know it, too. The world and you yourself might want to paint you as a devil, but there’s a sparkling, blood diamond that shines with compassion in your heart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, this took a while, didn't it? Besides the reasons mentioned above, with me its always that I start with something small and then end up branching off into something much, much larger. But umm, first of all, I feel the need to explain Erro. See, I was fairly hesitant to include OC's of any kind here, especially when i'm already using so many characters people probably either feel mixed about or have never heard of. OC's get a bad rap of often being Mary Sues, self inserts or simply... Out of place, which is fair, really. I think the key to not falling into pitfalls like those is to see characters as tools rather than your "Creations" or children.... I created Erro with the sole intent of having her bounce off a few other characters, and act as a living representation of how Rantaro treats his sisters. We haven't quite gotten into that since the interaction with her here was fairly small, but I have it set up for the future.
> 
> ...That being said, it remains to be seen whether or not i'll get around to it. I do have a lot to do, after all, and if this somehow manages to keep going for that long, I do intend to give every character their own POV chapter. I'm trying to continue the explorations of character's I've already given Pov's to while still doing this, as you might see with someone like Mikan (Who perhaps maybe got a bit too much across these last couple chapters) Speaking of which...
> 
> I was reading through Maki's free time events and noticed that the description of Maki's childhood friend that she became an assassin for when she essentially volunteered for the training to keep them safe was eerily similar to Mikan, so... I ran with it. The two play off each other pretty nicely regardless, so i'm happy that I managed to find such a happy coincidence. To me, a lot of the greatness of Maki's character is to see how her past and present clash off of one another, and also seeing her grow so much as a person despite her shortcomings. Actually, I could say that about all the of the three V3 survivors- That game in particularly does very well in that although it has dramatically less survivors than every other game in the series, I completely feel that each one 100% deserved their place there, which I cant really say about 2 and 1. Both have characters that I like (Such as Akane or Aoi) but manage to come off as flat because it feels like there just wasn't enough time to give everyone character development. By having less survivors flat out, that problem is fixed and at least for me creates a very satisfying ending, nothing to be said of that ending's meta elements which I will get to at... Some point, probably.
> 
> Maybe that's just me having a hard-on for character development, though. Good character development is enough to me to raise other mediocre aspects of a story, especially in danganronpa- It's for that reason that although V3-3 has so, so many shortcomings that I still enjoy it because of the growth both Himiko and Shuichi receive separately and together, with a little guest appearance from Maki thrown in there when she plays detective with Shuichi.
> 
> Talking about Rantaro, and his heavy featuring in this chapter- I cant quite remember if i've mentioned this before ( I think I have in brief) but I really like Rantaro's role as the first victim, which I think he performs excellently. It's a weird thing to excel at, sure- But due to his mysterious nature and his later appearance in the plot Rantaro manages to die incredibly early while still maintaining my interest in him due to the revelations he leaves in his wake, something which Twogami and Sayaka simply cant attest to. Here, I had a ton of fun merging his darker elements along with a tweaked version of his salmon mode backstory to put him in line with Maki.
> 
> His role as an underground killing game survivor is actually lifted straight out from another fic, one which I cannot unfortunately remember off the top of my head (Otherwise I would credit it here...) I believe it was the ultimate academy for criminals something or other, and although I only managed to read a few chapters before it went on hold I think the Author did a great job of introducing interesting concepts to the V3 cast and bringing in a few twists on the killing game format. It's also where I got perks.
> 
> I love this idea of Rantaro not only because it uses both of his talents but because I think it highlights him as a very contradictory person in some aspects- Somebody who is gentle and cool, yet dangerous and cunning. The comparisons to Maki are obvious, yet I enjoy them quite a lot as foils (Which is why the two got so much talking done this chapter)


End file.
